


To Love, Honor and Obey

by Wulfykins



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Arthur Morgan, Breathplay, CBT, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Daddy Kink, Degradation, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Finger Sucking, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, Leashes, Light BDSM, M/M, Multi, No aim for realism, No rape trauma, Non-con is chapter tagged, Not a dark story, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Praise Kink, Puppy Play, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, Some Plot, Teasing, Voyeurism, vandermorgan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:22:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 57,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26453308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wulfykins/pseuds/Wulfykins
Summary: Nothing matters more to Dutch than loyalty and obedience. He wants it, needs it, most of all from his number one killer, his strongest, his best. He wants Arthur Morgan kneeling at his feet, and the younger outlaw is more than eager to be exactly where his mentor wants him.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Dutch van der Linde, John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 138
Kudos: 233





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abbylikesarthur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbylikesarthur/gifts).



Arthur adjusted his dress tie, loosened it ever so slightly. He was way out of his comfort zone at this fancy dress party which Dutch had dragged him to. He practically begged for Hosea to take his place, but Dutch had insisted it should be him, of course he had. 

Another waiter walked up to him, offered him things which were supposedly edible. Edibles shouldn't make you want to retch at the sight of them. Arthur waved him off. 

Dutch had been working his magic on some rich feller; cuddled him like a newborn baby as he laughed at every word which came out of the man's mouth. Henry Fornsworth was his name, immigrated from England a few years ago. The man owned two factories here in Saint Denis. Arthur couldn't remember what they produced, he zoned out when Dutch had introduced him to the man. 

They acquired an invite to the party through some contact of Trelawny. The plan was for Dutch to pamper the man until he'd agree to invite them for a tour of his factory. Trelawny's source told him that a safe in the office contained bonds worth a few thousand. Getting out of the factory would be easy, it was the getting in part which required a more _delicate approach,_ as Dutch had called it. 

Arthur sipped his drink, watched as Dutch excused himself and made his way over to him. Without saying a word he guided Arthur to a separate room, made sure they were alone before he spoke. 

“Has your evening been lucrative so far?” Dutch asked.

“Got a few trinkets, hard to hide much in these clothes.” Arthur straightened his jacket, everything was tight, restrictive, he hated it.

“Hm, it suits you.” Dutch smirked. 

Arthur swallowed when Dutch's gaze dropped to his dress tie. The older man's hands were on it immediately, tightened it again like he had done during their coach ride. 

“Didn't I tell you to not touch that?” Dutch's order was disguised in a question, a demand for compliance. 

“It's too damned tight.” Arthur let out a small cough, his hands reached up to loosen it again but Dutch had grabbed hold of his wrists to stop him.

Dutch leaned in closer, so close that Arthur could feel the man's breath against his ear. “If you touch it again the consequences will be severe, remember that.” He whispered.

Only Dutch could whisper to him in such a threatening manner and send all the blood in his brains down to his nether regions. He inhaled deeply, the smell of cigar smoke and pomade invaded his nose, he loved it. On top of that Dutch had pressed his thigh against his groin, applied a moderate amount of pressure as he spoke. Shit, the man sure knew how to press his buttons. 

Arthur nodded at him, didn't think he could get any words out which weren't a request for Dutch to take him. Right here and now if it were up to him.

“Good boy.” Dutch stepped back, eyed him up and down like a piece of meat for sale. “You look damned good in that, almost as good as when you're naked and begging me to touch you.”

The sound which came from Arthur's throat was a sob of despair, those damned buttons.

Dutch grinned at him, the man was always so damned proud of himself whenever he made him squirm.

“Mr. Lockwood?” Fornsworth entered the room. “Ah, I thought I heard your voice.” His eyes darted between Dutch and Arthur. “Is there a problem?”

Arthur silently cursed himself, his face felt hot, which meant his cheeks must be flushed. The more he thought about it, the more embarrassed he felt.

“Not at all, Henry. My friend here isn't quite feeling himself. I thought it best to drag him away from the crowd and give him some space to cool down.” Dutch smiled at the man. 

“I see, is there anything my servants can get for you Mr. Callahan?”

Arthur cleared his throat. “No thank you, must've eaten something disagreeable for my stomach.” He forced a smile out.

“My apologies, I hope you feel better soon.” Fornsworth turned his head to Dutch. “Mr. Lockwood there is a guest who'd be absolutely delighted to meet you. That is, if you'd care to join me again?”

“It would be my pleasure.” Dutch bowed his head ever so slightly and followed the man out, but not before he side glanced Arthur with the dirtiest of grins on his face. That bastard.

Arthur let out the breath he'd been holding, damning Dutch for riling him up like that. He stayed behind for a few more minutes. Filled his mind with everything not Dutch before he felt ready to re-join the party. 

Arthur's eyes fell on the stairs. He wondered if he could sneak in to an office upstairs and find some more valuables there. His eyes scanned the room, no one looked his way, he didn't waste this opportunity and headed up the stairway.

“Are you lost, sir?”

He made it halfway down the corridor upstairs when the voice stopped him. “No, just looking for the bathroom.” Another waiter, Arthur rolled his eyes before he turned around, ready to tell the man to go away. The young blonde stared up at him with expectant blue eyes. Sky blue eyes which which immediately enthralled him, absolutely beautiful. 

“Oh, I'll show you sir.” The young waiter only managed to take a single step before he was stopped.

Arthur had placed his hand against the wall, blocked the young man from continuing forward. “So you work here?” Obvious question, stupid question, damn he was rusty.

“Uh, yes sir?” The young man shifted nervously.

“Mr. Fornsworth, he a nice man to work for?” Arthur left his hand in place, could smell the young man's sweet lavender scent from afar, it was intoxicating.

“He is, treats us very well.” A shy smile appeared on the young man's lips, almost melted Arthur in his boots.

Arthur stepped closer to him, left the young man room on the other side to leave if he wanted, he hadn't, a good sign. His next words remained trapped in his throat when his name rang out through the hallway.

“Arthur.”

Shit. Arthur stepped back, once, twice, until his back almost touched the opposite wall. He swore Dutch was secretly a bloodhound; trained to smell whenever he dared to even look at another man.

“Is there a problem here?” Dutch closed the distance within seconds.

“No, 's just looking for the bathroom.” Arthur mumbled, the corridor around him grew in size as he felt himself get smaller with every second that passed..

“I see.” Dutch glanced between them, until his gaze remained on the waiter. “Are your ears fine, son?”

The young waiter frowned at the strange question. “Yes Mr. Lockwood, I can hear perfectly.”

“Pardon the question, I only assumed because my friend here stood so close to you.” Dutch rested a hand on Arthur's shoulder, squeezed. “I believe you are needed downstairs.” He continued.

The young waiter nodded, left without question.

Arthur stepped forward to head back down as well, far away from Dutch.

“Ah ah, you are needed right here.” Dutch held on to his arm, pulled him back with ease.

“It was nothing, I was just asking for directions.” Arthur cleared his throat, his mouth failed to produce the saliva he needed.

“Only a guilty man excuses himself for nothing.” Dutch traced a finger from Arthur's waist up to his neck, his thumb and index finger held on to his tie, right below it's knot.

Arthur held his breath as a shiver ran all the way down his spine. Dutch had him pinned against the wall. He wanted to pull him closer, grind his hips against the older man. Arthur planted his hands against the wall behind him, he didn't dare to make the first move, knew he already fucked up too much today.

“You're very unruly today my boy.” Dutch's other hand crept up, held on to it's knot while his eyes were on Arthur, he tightened it even more.

Arthur swallowed, gulped as his throat had to work to get past the strictness around his neck. Dutch wrapped the tie around his hand, tugged on it as if it were a leash and lead them in to a room further down the hall.

“Dutch?” He croaked, the key turned, Dutch had locked the door, moved him over to the large desk in the office room. 

“Drop your pants.” Dutch ordered.

“Dutch... we're in some rich fellers mansion.” 

Dutch wrapped the tie around his fist until it went taught, leaned in closer. “You sure you want to test Daddy's patience?”

Shit, when Dutch talked to him like this it hit all his buttons at once. He fumbled with his pants, lowered them to his ankles.

“Stroke yourself for daddy.” Dutch loosened the tie ever so slightly, a small reward for Arthur's obedience.

Arthur did as told, wrapped a hand around his cock which already leaked with pre-cum. He only managed a few strokes before Dutch's hand wrapped around his and stroked in tandem with his own hand. 

A loud moan escaped from Arthur's mouth, he had to lean back against the desk, used his free hand to support himself against it.

“Quiet, boy.” Dutch ordered.

Arthur whimpered, twisted with desire when Dutch forced their hands to slow their pace.

“Dutch, Ah... shit, more.” 

“Always so needy.” Dutch spun him around, forced his arms behind his back and held on to his wrists in a vice like grip.

Arthur whimpered, his hard cock twitched eagerly, begged for more attention.

“Do you think that young waiter could do to you what I can?” Dutch growled, his big fingers ran all the way from the base of Arthur's shaft to it's tip.

“I... I w-wasn't.” Arthur pushed his hips forward, the friction of Dutch's rugged hand sent another wave of pleasure through him.

“Perhaps I should woo the boy and take him in front of you, is that what you want?”

“N-no...” Arthur panted heavily as Dutch continued to stroke him in time with his breathing.

“What _do_ you want, my boy?” Dutch stretched out Arthur's foreskin with his thumb, rubbed it around in a slow circling motion over his sensitive tip.

Arthur had to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from crying out, reduced it to a pathetic sounding sob. “You...” He managed, “...want you.”

Dutch's hand vanished from Arthur's leaking cock, still held his arms behind him, he hooked his index finger behind the back of Arthur's tie. 

Arthur's moan was gurgled from the tension around his neck as he titled his head backwards. Dutch had pulled him closer, nibbled on his earlobe.

“Show daddy how much you want him.” Dutch whispered before he stepped back.

Arthur wasted no time, the faster he did as Dutch told, the faster he'd be granted the release which he craved so much. Dutch had already freed his own member from his pants before Arthur knelt down in front of him, he practically threw himself at Dutch feet.

“Open up, let's see if that mouth is good for anything other than lying.” Dutch's cock hovered in front of Arthur's mouth. The older man stepped closer, smeared some of his pre-cum around Arthur's lips until the younger man parted them for him. 

“Don't insult me boy.” Dutch snarled, he used his fingers to pry Arthur's mouth further open.

Arthur planned to tease him, he was going to keep his lips around nothing more than Dutch's cock-head. Tease it with his tongue, play with it in his mouth. But the older man had plans of his own, there was a tug on Arthur's tie and a hand against the back of his head. He was forced down on Dutch's cock, so far that it almost touched the back of his throat. 

Arthur had to fight against the choking sensation, the forceful intrusion had triggered his gag reflex. His hands grasped at Dutch's thighs, he tried to push himself off but the fingers against the back of his head wouldn't let him. 

“Use your nose, boy. Breathe, in and out.” Dutch hadn't moved, the sound of Arthur choking on his shaft was too good. He usually went slow, gave Arthur time to adjust to his thickness, but not today. His boy was being a nuisance and had to be thought a lesson.

Arthur closed his eyes, tried to focus as he heavily breathed through his nose. Dutch was being rough with him. His eyes teared up when his gag reflex was triggered, but his cock throbbed painfully between his legs. Damn, he loved this.

Dutch's eyes narrowed. “Do not close your eyes when I allow you to taste me.”

God yes, he loved this so much. Blue eyes opened to meet the dark brown ones above them. Dutch had pulled back, left half his length in Arthur's mouth.

“Take a deep breath, it'll be your last for a bit.” Dutch warned. 

The grip on Arthur's hair got firmer, tightened into a fist. It kept his head tilted backwards ever so slightly as his mentor stared down at him. His eyes widened in shock when Dutch unexpectedly thrusts his hips forward. Dutch pushed his full length into Arthur's mouth, his nose was now buried in the patch of hair at the base of the older man's shaft. 

Everything moved so fast after that. Fingers abandoned his hair to painfully tighten his tie, the man above him lustfully growled at his choked gasp. In what he swore was the same second the fist in his hair returned and forced his head forwards and backwards, perfectly in rhythm with Dutch's thrusts. It was hard to breathe, impossible when two fingers pinched his nose shut. 

Wet slopping sounds filled the room around them, accompanied by Arthur's choked gasps as he fought for air. 

“Shit boy, so damned good.” A guttural growl lingered in the older man's throat. 

More tears welled up in Arthur's eyes. Here he was, on his knees in the office of some rich bastards mansion while his mentor, his lover, his daddy, skull fucked the shit out of him. 

His nostrils were freed, he could breathe again, somewhat. The dress-tie still strangled the ever living shit out of him while Dutch's shaft was down his throat.

Deep breaths through the nose, in and out, he could do it.

His reprieve was brief, interrupted by the powerful spurts of cum which shot straight down his throat. 

The older man's hips shuddered when he finally got his release. Dutch had tilted his head backwards, teeth grit together as he growled through his orgasm. 

The cock disappeared from his mouth, a lone string of spittle still connected them. His labored breaths filled the room after Dutch had quieted down. He watched as his lover gave himself a few firm strokes, milked himself dry only to smear it on Arthur's lips and chin. 

Arthur licked his lips, parted them to clean Dutch's cock, but the hand in his hair stopped him. 

“No. You don't deserve another drop.” Dutch was out of breath, he pulled Arthur's pocket square out of his suit jacket and cleaned his cock with it. After that he unceremoniously dropped it at Arthur's knees and buttoned himself up. 

Arthur whimpered, his own leaking member still begged for release. He reached between his legs, eager to stroke himself. 

Dutch stopped him.

Shit, he had forgotten this was a lesson. He glanced up at his mentor, a longing sensation in his eyes as he let out a desperate groan. "Please," he begged. 

“No touching until I say so.” Dutch leaned in, loosened Arthur's tie. He could breathe freely, but it was still tight enough to let it's presence be known, a reminder of who owned him. 

Arthur sobbed as his cock twitched again. 

Dutch smiled down at him, carded a hand through Arthur's hair. “My boy, my beautiful boy.” 

Arthur closed his eyes, Dutch's roughness, his comforting words, he loved all of it. But at the same time he hated the bastard, hated how well he knew how to use and abuse every inch of his body. Hated how he turned him into a desperate fool, like he'd done now. 

Dutch leaned in closer, his lips brushed against Arthur's earlobe as he whispered. “Now you won't be lying when you tell the pretty boy that you need the bathroom.” 

Bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this happened, and it's crap. Turns out smut is hard to write, but I'm giving it a shot anyways.
> 
> I tried, I'm sorry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, there's more, sorry.
> 
> Hope you can find some enjoyment in this! <3

It had taken Arthur some time to get himself cleaned up. When he made his way back down the stairs it seemed like the party hadn't slowed down one bit. Rich know-it-all's still flashed their forced smiles at one another. Somewhere in the midst of them was Dutch, lying his way into their minds with all the pretty words he could muster up. 

“May I offer you some champagne, sir?”

Arthur had barely made it down the stairs when eyes so blue he thought he'd drown in them stared up at him. The young waiter from earlier stepped closer, held the tray out towards him. Arthur nodded, wrapped his fingers around the base of the wine glass and brought it to his lips. The young man re-organized the glasses as he walked past him, close, too close. His sweet lavender scent snaked it's way into Arthur's nose and flooded him with lust.

Shit.

Arthur's eyes darted around the room, he couldn't see nor hear Dutch. It was safe to stare, safe to let his gaze drop on that fine looking ass. His eyes followed the young waiter as he went from guest to guest. Glass after glass disappeared from the tray he was holding until none remained. 

The young man headed over to what Arthur suspected was the kitchen area. He stopped right before he'd disappear behind the corner and turned his head. Ocean blue eyes locked with his own; the smallest, sneakiest of smiles appeared on the boys lips before he vanished.

Double shit.

Arthur shook his head, he must have imagined it, must have assumed he saw something he wanted, but which hadn't actually been there. In spite of that his legs still moved on their own accord, forced him to towards that area. He did another safety check before he turned the corner, no Dutch in sight.  
A smile formed on the young waiters face when Arthur appeared in the corner of his eye. He had a bottle of champagne in his hands, empty glasses on the counter-top in front of him. 

Arthur stopped in his tracks. His mind attempted to string together a series of words into a coherent sentence which didn't involve the words 'let's' and 'fuck.' He wasn't sure if the young man had even noticed him. Until he realized what said boy was doing with the bottle in his hands. 

Long and slender fingers were wrapped around the base of the bottle, in one swift and slow motion they slid upwards towards it's cork. They stopped there, a thumb extended and rested on top of the cork as it teasingly rubbed circles around it. When the hand slid down again only it's index finger brushed against the edge of the bottle. 

Arthur drew in his bottom lip, held it there between his teeth, he was hard again. He could imagine his cock in place of the bottle, imagine those slender fingers touching him in the same way. That little shit teased him on purpose.

From this angle he could see one side of the young match's mouth had upturned from the wide grin on the rest of his face. Arthur almost jumped when he popped the cork. Bits of white foam spilled out from the top, followed by the clear blonde liquid. After the waiter filled a few glasses he brought his fingers to his mouth. The young man's tongue slid over his index and middle finger before he took them in his mouth and suckled on them. Arthur heard the suckling noise when he withdrew them from his mouth. The boy wasn't done yet; he pursed his lips and slowly traced his two fingers around them, then planted a soft kiss on the tip of them. 

If he couldn't hear the loud muttering of guests in the room behind him Arthur would have pounced the boy. He couldn't hold back a wanting moan, the grin on the young man's face returned immediately after. All this and they hadn't even made eye contact, the boy filled his tray and lifted it, ready to serve more guests. He was about to walk past Arthur when the older man grabbed hold of his arm. 

“You're a real tease, boy.” He snarled.

The young man smiled, kept his gaze ahead of him, nowhere near Arthur. “I'm just doing my job sir, serving the guests.”

“You put up a show like that for all guests?”

“No sir.” The waiter smirked. “There's a more hands on show in the upstairs office in thirty minutes, if you're interested,” the boy quietly said.

He removed his hand from the younger man's arm, Arthur's left brow shot up. His lopsided grin seemed to be a suitable answer, the young waiter nodded at him and continued on with his work. 

The smile on Arthur's face radiated with pride, he hadn't lost his touch after all. If it wouldn't land him in trouble he'd happily boast about his seductive skills to Dutch. 

He had to be careful and plan ahead. He could sneak up the stairs in a bit and be mindful of Dutch. No matter what he had to avoid being spotted by the man. Once up there he'd lock the office door, just as Dutch had done when they were in there. It would have to be a quick fuck to avoid suspicion, no doubt Dutch would come looking if he were absent for too long. Arthur snorted, his pockets were stuffed with valuables. Trinkets from folk who were still in the same building as he, and yet the only person he feared and tried to avoid was Dutch.

Twenty-five minutes to go.

Arthur groaned, time moved slower than ever. His mind had been occupied with all the things he could do to make the boy squirm in the short time span he'd give himself. He had to stop thinking about it. The throbbing sensation between his legs grew stronger and stronger. He really needed a distraction before his pants would display an embarrassing stain for all to see. 

Twenty minutes to go.

Dutch approached him, informed him of a guest in the garden with an expensive watch in their left pocket. Told him to look for a drunken man with a blue pocket square. Finally a much needed distraction.

Within a few minutes Arthur found his target. He bumped in to the man, apologized profusely while expert fingers lifted the item he was after. Classic move, too easy with these rich types, especially the drunken ones. 

Ten minutes to go.

Arthur was inside again, scanned the room, couldn't see Dutch near the staircase, good. He checked the time on his newly acquired pocket watch and frowned. It didn't seem like it was worth more than ten or twenty dollars, then again he was no expert.

Two minutes left.

His hand rested on the door knob while he waited, part of him expected Dutch to turn the corner right now. He couldn't hear anyone on the stairs, only the distant mumbling of the guests down below. He got away with it, would finally get the release he so desperately needed. He could already imagine himself pushing his way into that hot, tight ass. Imagine those pretty blue eyes as they stared at him and begged for more. Arthur nodded to himself and took a deep breath. Dutch only had himself to blame for this, the man shouldn't have kept him on the edge for so long. Fuck you Dutch.

Arthur slipped into the room, used his back to push against the door and close it. The sight before him left him speechless. Dutch was in the room with a lit cigar between his teeth. He held the pocket watch connected to the golden chain on his vest in one hand. The other rested against the back of the young waiters neck. 

The young waiter, shit. Dutch had the boy bent over against the large desk. His pants were down at his ankles and bits of his pre-cum decorated the side side of the desk. The boy had his eyes closed, as his chest rose and fell rapidly. From the look on his face it seemed like he experienced absolute bliss. The worst thing Arthur had to look at was Dutch. The older man had his full length buried in the boy's ass while his face sported that stupid proud smirk of his. The one Arthur only ever saw when the man knew he had bested someone.

“Mr. Callahan right on time.” Dutch flicked his wrist, closed his pocket watch with a loud click before he returned it to his vest pocket. 

Arthur's jaw had dropped, he couldn't piece together what happened or rather how it happened.

“It's amazing what kind of favors you can buy with some pretty words and a few dollars, ain't it son?” Dutch used both his hands to rub and knead the young man's ass cheeks. 

“Y-yes... sir.” The boy tilted his head backwards, parted his lips to allow a longing moan to escape from them.

A few dollars? Arthur jaw dropped further when it hit him. The boy's seductive dance with the bottle, his invitation to this room. Then Dutch who sent him out to the garden to steal something. Which was probably so they could come up here while he'd been busy outside. That explains the stupid pride filled smirk on his mentors face. 

Arthur's face flushed from embarrassment. He hadn't been the master seducer he thought he was, Dutch had bribed the boy to tempt him. The older man had planned this to test him and he failed. 

Shit.

“You seem upset Mr. Callahan, have a seat.” Dutch directed a single nod at the office chair.

Arthur felt like a fool, he should have known it was too easy. Should have realized something was up when Dutch sent him after a ten dollar watch. His mentor had set up the most obvious of traps and he fell for it. He allowed himself to be guided by his cock instead of his brain, Dutch would surely punish him for it, again. 

“Arthur.” He realized he hadn't moved when Dutch's impatient voice filled the room, Arthur pulled the chair back and sat down. With the boys face being halfway across the desk they were now close to each other. Close enough for the young man's lavender smell to find it's way in his nose again. 

“Comfortable?” Dutch continued, not interested in a response. “Place your hands on the table so I can see them.”

Arthur swallowed deeply and did as told. He already knew what was coming. Dutch was going to fuck the boy in front him, make him watch and once again not grant him any release of his own. 

Dutch puffed on his cigar before he placed it back between his teeth. Both his hands grasped on to the waiters hips for support as he pushed forward. The older man grunted as he pulled back and snapped his hips forwards again. The sound of skin smacking skin filled the room, only to be interrupted by the occasional grunt from Dutch and soft moans from the young man.

The boys left hand went up to cover his mouth but Dutch pulled it away. “We have a guest watching us boy, let him hear you.”

Arthur bit into his bottom lip. The boys face had changed to a fiery red, no doubt a mix from embarrassment and lust. With every snap of Dutch's hips his moans had gotten louder, more guttural. 

Arthur's breathing had sped up, if he'd been good, if he had controlled his own urges that could have been him right now. Bent over a desk having his brains being fucked out by Dutch's delicious cock.

Or...

If he had planned things better, did a better job of going behind Dutch's back. Then he could have been the one who was making the young man squeal with delight. 

“So damned tight, you'd love this Arthur.” Dutch grinned.

That bastard.

When Dutch changed the angle of his thrusts, the boy's pleasure filled shriek pierced the walls around them. 

"My... my." Dutch smiled and fully buried himself inside the young man's ass, he leaned over and spoke softly. "Open that pretty little mouth of yours, son."

When the young waiter complied Dutch took two of Arthur's fingers and moved them into the open mouth. Warm lips formed a seal around them and Arthur could feel his tongue moving up and down against his fingers. 

Arthur clenched his ass cheeks together as he watched Dutch hit the same sweet spot over and over. The boys noises had changed to the most vulgar sounding moans, he could feel the soft vibrations against his fingers. If his cock had been in the young man's mouth they would have surely made him come already.

Arthur wondered if that's what he sounded like whenever Dutch pounded into him like that. God he was hard, he hadn't checked but he was certain that his own pre-cum had left a dark stain on his black pants. 

Arthur shifted in his seat when Dutch wrapped his fingers around the boys cock. The young outlaw licked his lips when Dutch started to slowly pump him. It could have been him.

“Hm, good boys deserve their release.” Dutch cooed as his hand sped up.

The young waiter withdrew his lips from Arthur's fingers. He moved an arm under his mouth so he could bite down on the sleeve of his jacket. His loud, continuous moans were now muffled as he kept his eyes squeezed shut.

Dutch's hips thrust forward again, in tandem with his hand which still pumped the boy from base to tip.

Arthur stared up at Dutch, his mentors face was red from exertion. A wicked grin lingered behind the cigar between his teeth as smoke rose up from it. Beads of sweat covered his forehead, his hair was no longer slicked back, a few lose strands now covered the front of his forehead. A predatory growl escaped from his throat every time his hips snapped forward, it was a sight to behold. 

Dutch's hand sped up even more. Arthur watched as the boy's teeth dug into the arm between them, he unleashed the longest, muffled groan Arthur had ever heard. One of Dutch's hands reached for the boy's shoulder to steady himself. He thrust forward and pushed himself deep inside the young man's ass. 

The older man had tilted his head backwards. A growl dragged on in his throat, his hips shuddered while he emptied himself inside of that sweet looking ass. The hand on the boys shoulder moved to grip the edge of the desk. Dutch leaned forward, his chest heaved while he took his time to gather himself. He pulled his softening cock out and smiled as his spend dripped down the young man's inner leg.

It should have been his ass which was filled to the brim with all of Dutch. His legs which should have been covered in his seed. Arthur silently cursed himself. 

Dutch retrieved a cloth from his pocket and cleaned himself. Of course he had something handy, because the bastard had planned this. He spun the young waiter around and used the same cloth to clean him as well. Something he rarely did for Arthur, undoubtedly doing it now just to torture him some more. Arthur's hands formed into fists as he watched, he wanted to slam his head against the desk. The agony of his leaking cock was unbearable, a single pump would probably unleash a load strong enough to take someone's eye out.

“Worth every cent.” Dutch said as he held a few dollar bills out to the boy, the older man had already composed himself completely. Anyone who walked through that door would have no idea. No idea that his cock was buried deep inside what was probably the best ass he's had in a long time, only a few minutes ago. 

The young waiters breath was still labored as he accepted his payment. “T-thank you, s-sir.” He stammered as he struggled to button himself up with his shaking fingers. That had probably been the best ride he'd ever had in the twenty something years of life.

Arthur wanted to leap at him. Wanted to throw every cent, every dollar every stolen trinket in his pocket at the young man. Anything for a chance to have those lips around his shaft. But Dutch would stop him, and he would listen.

Dutch stepped back and held an arm out towards the door. His other hand held on to his cigar, he brought it to his lips and puffed it.

Arthur lowered his head when the door closed behind the young man. He groaned from shame when he saw the large stain on his pants.

Shit. 

“Stand up, come here.” Puffs of smoke left Dutch's mouth as he spoke.

Arthur's head snapped up. He was on his feet before his brain even had time to catch up, in protest it made the room spin around him, thankfully only for a second or two. 

Dutch opened the buttons on Arthur's pants. He became very aware of the tightness from the tie around his neck as he swallowed deeply. A ringed hand cupped his balls and rolled them around in it. Arthur moaned in response, had to place his hand on the desk for support when his legs threatened to give out on him.

“Hm, nice and hard.” Dutch smiled as he tucked him back in his pants and buttoned them up for him.

Arthur closed his eyes and sobbed, of course he wouldn't get anything, he was a fool to have thought otherwise.

Dutch stepped closer until his thigh pressed against the younger outlaws groin. He stroked Arthur's cheek with the back of his hand and traced it down to his chin. Dutch cupped his chin, turned his head so he could whisper into his ear. 

“We are leaving soon, you will hold on until we're home. Then daddy will make you scream.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point it seems like every chapter is just going to have smut in it. I wonder how long I can keep going before it's just a repeat and I have to end it. We'll see! 
> 
> I'm still sorry for writing this... xD Hope you enjoy!

Arthur checked the time on the cheap piece of shit pocket watch once more. He had stored all the other trinkets and dollar bills he had lifted in the camps box. The watch he held on to for-, well he wasn't sure why, it was his now, period. 

Earlier on, back at the party; Dutch had suggested he should drape his coat over his arms. Use it to cover up the stain on his groin area. Finally his mentor had done something which actually helped him. 

As promised they didn't linger at the party for much longer. Dutch spent a few more minutes to chat with Fornsworth. He managed to win himself an invite to a more _private_ venue, as he had called it during the ride back to the Shady Belle. He was being very elusive with the details but Arthur couldn't have cared less. His mind and body were solely focused on Dutch's promise to him, the promise of a good time. 

When they arrived back home Dutch had told him to go upstairs and wait. The older man was also very clear with his instructions to not change to a more comfortable outfit. He protested, wanted to get out of this restrictive, uptight suit, but Dutch hadn't yielded. 

And so Arthur paced back and forth in the upstairs corridor outside Dutch's room. The older man took his time, said he had to discuss a few things with Hosea. Like hell he did, no doubt this was just another mind game, bastard loved those.

Footsteps on the stairs.

Finally, Arthur salivated. All this pent up sexual frustration from the afternoon was about to be released. On any other day he would have noticed the lighter stride of the steps, but today his mind lacked the appropriate amount of blood flow. 

“Arthur.” John's eyes were all over him as his brows knit together.“Why you still dressed like that?”

Arthur whipped his body around, faced the window which overlooked the swamp. There was a massive bulge in his pants and he'd rather not listen to John needle him about it. 

“What do you want, Marston?”

John snorted at the stupidity of the question. “My room's up here in case you forgot.”

Arthur huffed but otherwise remained silent.

“Waiting for Dutch?” John asked.

Arthur felt his cheeks redden. John was the only one who knew about the true nature of the relationship between himself and Dutch. Marston had walked in on them one night, many moons ago and was greeted with a vision he'd never be able to forget. Arthur had been on his knees, his face buried inside Dutch's crotch while the older man had a fistful of his hair in his hand. It was the most embarrassing moment of his life, Dutch on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine with it. The man assured him that John would keep their secret. Less confident of that he had elected to corner John later that night, threatened the ever living shit out of his friend to secure his silence. 

“Yes.” Arthur cleared his throat.

“Right, you get anything good at the party?” 

Arthur narrowed his eyes and spun around to face John. Screw the bulge, the darkening corridor would likely hide most of it anyways. “The hell you implying Marston?”

John raised his hands in defeat. “Easy big man. Just asking if you lifted some good stuff 's all.”

Arthur clenched his fists, he shouldn't be on edge like this, but Dutch tested his patience. John was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. “Few hundred dollars worth.” 

John nodded at him, his gaze currently not at Arthur's eye level, much lower in fact. “Dutch got you all pent up, huh?”

Two steps were all Arthur needed to grab John by his collar and force him up against the wall. The young outlaw had to stand on his tiptoes as Arthur lifted him.

“Didn't I tell you to keep quiet about that?” Arthur snarled.

“Jesus, relax, ain't no one downstairs.” John hastily replied.

“If I hear you run yer mouth about this one more time I'll send ya flying off that balcony, 's that clear?”

John swallowed, then nodded.

Arthur knew his friend always struggled to tell if he was serious or not, he'd keep it that way.

“Boys.” Dutch approached, man must have ascended the stairs with the dexterity of a cat. He hadn't commented on what he saw, merely walked past himself and John, headed straight for his room.

John being the smug little shit that he was had stretched an arm out towards Dutch's room. Bastard knew that Dutch's silent summon would be more alluring than roughing him up.

Arthur lowered him down and released the grip he had on John's collar.

“Have fun.” John whispered.

Arthur's hand grabbed at air, John had quickly gotten out of his way to avoid the retribution for his snide remark and rapidly descended the stairs.

He'll get him him later, Arthur promised himself. Without further delay he pushed open the door to Dutch's room, the older man stood by his bed. His bow-tie hung loosely around his neck, jacket neatly slung over the chair opposite of him. As always there was a lit cigar between his thumb and index finger. 

“I see knocking is a thing of the past.” Dutch unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled his sleeves up.

“I uhm.” Had he really messed up within two seconds of being in Dutch's presence? “Sorry.”

“Does this mean you need a lesson in patience, manners, or both?” Dutch remained focused on his sleeves, hadn't cast a single glance in his direction.

Arthur's mouth opened and closed but no words came out, the question was a trap, he knew that much. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.

“Clothes off.” Dutch ordered while his face sported a lopsided grin.

Arthur reached for his tie, eager to get the restriction away from his neck, Dutch stopped him with a quick _'ah ah'_ when he reached for it. He removed the rest of his clothes and dumped them on a pile at his bare feet. 

“My room does not exist for you to clutter it up.” Dutch titled his head towards the chair from which his jacket hung.

Arthur let out a small sigh as he bent over to gather up his clothes. He was about to toss them on top of the chair when Dutch cleared his throat. Right, he had to fold them first, nice and tidy as his mentor preferred. 

A lesson in manners.

“On your knees.” Dutch sat down on the edge of his bed, pointed at a spot on the ground in front of him.

The older man was curt with him. The authority in his voice already brought life to Arthur's cock as he knelt down on the designated spot. 

Dutch leaned over to his dresser, turned the oil lamp on and retrieved a book. He opened it while he shifted around on the bed to a more comfortable position. 

Arthur stared at him, but his mentors eyes were on the book in his hands. He waited for a minute or two before his mouth opened. “...Dutch?”

The older man brought his index finger up to his own lips. It rested against them for a seconds before it returned to the book and turned a page. 

A lesson in patience.

Arthur lowered his head and closed his eyes as he silently cursed at himself.

“Keep your head level.” Dutch mumbled past the cigar between his teeth.

Arthur's head snapped up, he silently cursed at Dutch now.

After what felt like thirty or so minutes of his knees being assaulted by the hardwood floor, Dutch finally closed the book. The man set it back down on the dresser before he got to his feet. He removed his boots and stepped out of his pants, folded them and placed them on top of the chair. Arthur licked his lips as he watched the older man sit back down on the bed, now naked from the waist down. 

“Come here.” Dutch had spread his legs, Arthur took that as his queue to position himself in between them.

He closed his eyes as Dutch stroked a hand through his hair. Fingers rubbed in circles against the back of his head and Arthur happily leaned into them. 

“My beautiful boy, you've been so good.” Dutch continued to massage the back of the younger outlaws head, his voice soft and soothing.

Arthur softly moaned, as much as he loved Dutch being stern and rough with him, this was something else entirely. The love, the praise, he craved it so much.

When he opened his eyes, the sight of Dutch's hand as it lazily slid back and forth across his shaft, greeted him. Arthur moistened his lips and leaned forward. The hand on the back of his head grabbed a fistful of his hair and held him back. 

“My my, aren't we eager.” Dutch grinned, “do you want to taste daddy?”

“...Yes.” Overwhelmed with need, Arthur barely managed a whisper.

“But you've been a bad boy, trying to go behind my back with that sweet little blonde waiter.” Dutch's grip on his hair tightened and the man bared his teeth at him.

Arthur swallowed deeply, he hadn't considered that Dutch might just punish him further. Send him to bed with his balls still hard as rocks. He'd have to grovel to the best of his ability or remain blue balled. 

“It was a mistake, won't happen again. My body and mind are loyal to you.” Loyalty, one of Dutch's favorite words.

“Is that so?” Dutch withdrew the hand from Arthur's hair.

Arthur submissively lowered his head. “The boy meant nothing, just pent up frustration getting the better of me. I belong to you and you alone.”

“Damned right you do.” Dutch snarled, used both hands to tighten the knot of Arthur's only remaining garment; the tie around his neck. 

A choked gurgle reverberated through Arthur's throat.

“Put that mouth to work, then daddy will show you how he threats his property.” Dutch's hand wrapped the tie around it and used it like a leash to pull him closer to his groin.

“P-property?” It was hard to speak past the tight knot against his windpipe, but the statement had surprised him enough to warrant a comment.

“Shut up, there's only one thing that mouth needs to do right now.” Dutch held on to his shaft, prodded Arthur's lips with it as it left traces of his pre-cum behind.

“Start using that tongue or I'll take you raw, boy.” Dutch threatened.

Arthur whimpered, he knew Dutch would never hurt him like that. But the way he said it, the menace in his voice, it made his cock twitch as it became more erect. 

Eager to please and stave off any further punishment, he wrapped his fingers around the base of Dutch's cock. He planted a soft kiss on the tip of the man's shaft. Dutch wanted loyalty and worship, he'd show him how much he could worship his thick member. 

A soft growl came from above him as he sucked his cheeks in and worked to take Dutch's full length into his mouth. He had done this many times before but still struggled with the length and thickness of Dutch's shaft. Arthur managed to get over half of Dutch's cock in to his mouth when he paused for a few breaths. He pulled back, slowly, lips wrapped tightly around the member in his mouth. Arthur made sure that the top of his tongue always rubbed against the shaft as he moved back. 

When he fully pulled out it bounced upwards and Arthur took the opportunity to lean in and twirl his tongue around it's head, he lapped up bits of pre-cum as he traced lines of his own spittle from it's tip all the way to the base of it.

“Oh my boy, my sweet boy, you're getting better at this.” Dutch's cock now glistened with his saliva. The older man's finger scratched the back of his head again, the words of praise hardened him further. 

He wanted to please Dutch, gain more of that praise. Arthur gently wrapped his fingers around the base of his mentors cock, gave it a slight squeeze as he brought it down to his mouth and took him in once more. 

It's head leaked inside his mouth, he slurped on it, enjoyed the taste of Dutch's salty but sweet pre-cum. Dutch had started to buck into him, so he bobbed his head up and down in time with the man's thrusts. 

“That's it, get daddy ready for you.”

The hand against the back of his head urged him forward, he obliged. He almost made it to the base of it when his gag reflex triggered. Where it was slack at first the leash now pulled taut. The noises he made as he choked and writhed had triggered something primal inside Dutch, they always had. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn't allowed to pull back and had to fight off the urge to retch. 

“Easy boy, you can do it.” The voice from above encouraged him to relax his jaw and breathe through his nose as the tip of Dutch's cock touched the back of his throat. The older man took control of the moment and pushed himself deeper down. He held himself there until Arthur thought he'd pass out, thankfully, his mentor had pulled back before that happened. 

Arthur coughed when his front entrance was free again, to his relief Dutch had somewhat loosened the tie around his neck. Hands under his arms lifted him and guided him to lie down on the bed. 

Dutch opened a drawer next to him, retrieved his tin of petroleum jelly and set it down on top of the dresser. His legs were being lifted to rest against the man's shoulders, hands against his hips pulled him closer like he weighed nothing. Dutch's strength always surprised him. 

Arthur hissed when a slick finger slowly forced it's way into his rear entrance. His cock was fully erect and pre-cum oozed out of it on to his lower abdomen. A second finger soon joined the first one. His hands shifted around the bed and grasped at the sheets, anything to hold on to as the two fingers scissored around in his hole. 

“Shit Dutch.” The older man stayed away from that special spot inside him, which was for the best. Arthur knew there was no way he wouldn't come prematurely if Dutch went any further. The days events had been too much, the denial excruciating.

A third finger. Shit. A loud moan made it halfway out of his mouth when a hand clamped over it.

Dutch must have been satisfied with his prep,the hand against his mouth disappeared. It was now used to adjust his position, finally he could feel Dutch's thickness inside of him. 

Arthur's breath came in gasps as he felt himself fill up more and more.

“Hmm, always so tight.” Dutch wrapped a hand around Arthur's cock and gave it a single but firm squeeze.

The younger outlaws' eyes shot open, but before he could yelp the hand clamped his mouth shut again. It pressed harder than last time and left his cry mostly muffled. 

“This what you wanted, boy?” Dutch spoke between grit teeth.

“Mmm.” Arthur nodded, squeezed his eyes shut when Dutch pushed in further after he'd adjusted enough to accommodate him.

“That's right, you'll get all of me. But not because you want it, you get what I decide to give you. But only when I'm convinced you deserve it.” Dutch taunted, a final thrust left his full length buried inside of him. 

“Mmm!” His back arched uncomfortably as he was stretched to his limit, Dutch waited, gave him time to get used to it. Always mindful to not hurt him.

“Who do you belong to, boy?” Dutch lifted his hand so Arthur could speak.

“You.” The word was entangled with a loud exhale.

“Do you deserve this?” Dutch asked.

Arthur hesitated to answer, wanted to say the right thing. “I deserve whatever you decide to give me.”

Dutch let out a moan of his own. “God damn Arthur.” That had been absolutely the right thing to say. The man who mounted him pulled back and thrust forward in one swift motion. The adjustment time, the slickness of his spit, and the petroleum jelly all worked in tandem to let Dutch's cock slide back and forth with little effort. 

Arthur's moans became louder with every thrust. He was about to shout out Dutch's name when a hand around his throat stopped him. The other hand wrapped itself around his cock again worked furiously to stroke the whole length of his shaft.

His back arched up as far as it could, his whole body tensed when his shaft started to pulse with great force. Spurt after spurt shout out from it and coated his mentors hand in vast amounts of his spend. He would have screamed the whole camp together if he could. The hand around his throat prevented much more than a prolonged, strangled gargle from escaping. The restriction only served to strengthen his ejaculation. 

The hand on his shaft continued to milk him as he spasms against it. His eyes rolled back and his whole existence became engulfed in the purity of the pleasure he experienced.

Dutch had mumbled something encouraging to him, but he was too caught up in his own bliss to make out what was said.

When he regained his senses Dutch had already withdrawn from him. Arthur could feel the man's seed leak out after the now limp cock was removed from his hole with a plopping sound. 

Arthur rolled over on his side as soon as Dutch had lowered his legs. His breath was still labored, to give his lungs more air and his abused throat a break he loosened the tie. The bed moved as Dutch sat down next to him. Arthur lazily smiled when the hand in his hair returned and gently massaged his scalp. 

“You did good.” His smile widened when the words were whispered into his ear, followed by a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you.” He murmured. “Not bad yourself.” Arthur opened one eye to glance up at his mentor with a mischievous smirk on his face.

The man's brows had shot all the way up, Dutch got up from the bed and fumbled around with the pile of clothes on top of the chair.

“You sound like you still have a lot of energy left in you.” Dutch stated.

Arthur closed his eyes and shrugged. “Could do with a nap,” he muttered.

Something landed on the bed next to his head, out of curiosity he slid one eye open. It was that piece of shit cheap pocket watch Dutch had made him steal.

Dutch's lopsided grin revealed his intent before he even spoke.

“Fifteen minutes, then I'll have you again.”


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The early morning sun graced the room with it's presence, bright and invasive. How Dutch managed to sleep for even an hour past sunrise with all these windows was something he never understood.

Dutch. Arthur smiled, half open eyes glanced at the still form next to him. The older man had one arm and one leg draped over his body, possessive even while he slept.

Last night was something else, Dutch had made good on his promise, barely fifteen minutes after their first fuck, the man had been ready to again. Several more times after that as well, they went at it for a few hours with only minimal breaks in between. Arthur admired his mentors stamina. 

Arthur's back arched as he stretched his limbs. He really needed to relieve himself, but didn't want to disturb Dutch's slumber. His eyes remained on Dutch's chest, watched at it slowly rose and fell. His hands carefully moved from his belly towards his head. This was the perfect time to finally relieve himself from that damned tie around his throat. 

Ringed fingers wrapped around his wrist with cat like reflexes.

Guess not, Arthur sighed.

“Dutch...”

“Hmm, my boy. Need your reminder that you're mine.” Dutch's morning voice was gruff, so perfect.

Arthur huffed. “Don't need to be strangled every damned minute of the day to know that.”

“You're teasing me with good ideas, my boy.”

He closed his eyes when a finger brushed across his chest and circled his right nipple.

“So beautiful, so strong.” Dutch whispered. “All mine.”

“All yours...” Arthur murmured.

The left side of Arthur's face lit up with a smile as a pair of lips touched his neck and planted numerous soft kisses on it. He gasped when the finger which circled his nipple was joined by another and lightly pinched it.

“Shit... Dutch, I got work to do, can't...” Arthur bit his bottom lip as a rush of blood went down to his cock.

The fingers around his nipple disappeared, grabbed hold of the tie and tugged on it.

“Maybe I'll hitch you to my bed and keep you here.”

A small cough escaped from Arthur's throat, he was half erect now. Dutch managed to push his buttons, as always. “You...ahhh.” He hadn't noticed the older man's hand moving down to stroke him. “You explain to John why I ai- ...Shit Dutch.” He moaned. “Ain't there to help with his job.”

“I'm sure he'll understand.” Dutch lowered his voice as he continued. “After all, I bet the entire camp heard you scream last night.”

“Do- uhhhng.” Arthur's back arched when the hand stroked faster. “Don't j-joke 'bout that.”

“Are you ashamed of being mine?” Dutch's lips brushed against his ear.

Arthur's brows pulled together as he turned his head to face Dutch. “'Course not.”

His fingers entangled with Dutch's, removed them from his erection. He threw the blankets back and got up out of bed, his mood now ruined, for the best probably. He wasn't ashamed, things were just complicated, Dutch knew that. What they did, who they are, it's just not right in the eyes of so many others. It was a miracle that John had been fine with it, unless he secretly wasn't. 

Arthur sighed. He would love nothing more than to scream the roof off the building whenever Dutch pleasured him. If only to show the man how much he loved everything his mentor did to him. It just wasn't possible, not here, not in some hotel room. That's just how it had to be. 

“Have I upset you, sweetheart?” Dutch propped his head up with his arm.

“Call me that again and I'll be more than just upset.” Arthur's lips twitched but he bit back the smile. There was no way in hell he'd encourage Dutch to call him that.

“Be careful out there, Arthur.”

Arthur's hand was on the doorknob, his head lowered ever so slightly. This time he hadn't held back his smile. “You know me.”

~~~

Noon had passed, the sun still high in the sky as Arthur and John had decided to give their horses a rest. The robbery had been a stellar success. John had distracted the coach driver while Arthur sneaked up and forced his way into it's storage compartment in the back. An easy tree-hundred or so dollar take, not bad for half a days work.

“You can wipe that grin off your face now. I get it, job went smooth, well done Marston.” Arthur leaned back against the tree, pulled his hat over his eyes to protect them from the blazing sun.

“I'm allowed to gloat.” John sat down in the grass opposite of Arthur.

“Gloat when ya get a take worth mentioning.”

John huffed. “Went smooth didn't it?”

“I can smoothly lift ten dollars from some rich fellers pocket, that don't mean it's a good take.”

“Whatever, you and your damned moods.” John said as the man's boot collided with his own, it was a soft kick.

“Will you shut up? Tryin' to get some rest.”

“Long night?” Arthur could hear the grin on John's face.

He pushed his hat up. “You sure you wanna go there Marston? Ain't no Dutch or no one else around here to save ya.”

John rolled his eyes. “Ain't afraid of ya, besides, you said it. Ain't no one else around, so what's your damned problem?”

“My _problem_ be that it ain't none of yer business, why you so interested anyways? If I didn't know any better...” Arthur's left brow shot up.

“Pardon?” John's voice went up an octave, he cleared his throat.

“Nothing.” Arthur smirked, pulled his journal out of his satchel and stared to scribble almost immediately.

“What you doing? You writing 'bout me?” John asked.

Arthur smiled. “You ain't that interesting John.”

“Let me see.” John crawled forward, his finger touched the tip of the journal in an attempt to tilt it downwards.

The smile on his face vanished as his lips formed a thin line. “Marston.”

John hadn't listened to him, his hand pushed down against the journal and he peeked over. 

Arthur had enough. He snapped it shut, tossed it aside and threw his body at John.

“Jesus!” John cried out.

Arthur straddled him, pinned the younger outlaws arms at his side. “I warned ya Marston.” He snarled.

“Alright alright, eighteen god damned years and you still won't let me peek inside, the hell is your problem?”

“Now I know you just have half a brain, so I'll let it slide. Stay away from my things, Marston.”

“Whatever.” John replied.

Arthur shook his head at him and got to his feet. He half turned to retrieve his journal when John's legs hooked with his own. A well calculated twist and a pull sent him crashing down to the ground with a loud thud.

Before he could get to his knees John had planted him self on top of his back

“Calling me half brained when you turn your back on a man?” John chuckled.

“Marston... I swear.” Arthur spoke through grit teeth, cheeks red with anger. He pushed himself up, managed to get on hands and knees while John... rode him?

John laughed at him, “you ain't bucking me.” Little shit had wrapped his arms around his neck in a light choke hold.

“I'mma drag you to that God damned river and throw you in, if ya don't get off me.” Arthur threatened.

“Go on then, hee-ya!” John squeezed his legs together, the classical sign to make a horse move forward.

Arthur frowned, did he just? “Did you just?”

The man on his back giggled. That does it. Arthur mustered all the strength he had and sat up further. Legs hooked around his middle as the young outlaw threatened to slip while Arthur got to his feet. With heavy steps he marched straight towards the nearby river with John still on his back. He got one foot into it before the John hopped off him. 

“Okay okay! You win.” John raised his hands in surrender.

“You ain't getting off that easy, Marston.” Arthur spun around, glared at him and stepped closer to the young outlaw.

“Uhm Arthur... you seem to have a thing there.” John pointed downwards.

Arthur stopped with a deep frown on his face and lowered his head until his eyes landed on the bulge in his pants.

Shit.

Arthur's face flushed with heat. He had felt a tingle when John spurred him forward as if he were an animal. But he thought it was just a weird moment, no longer than a second. Instead he was almost fully erect.

Shit.

“I uhm... w-we should probably go.” John stammered.

Arthur nodded, his mouth too dry for words. He thought he would never be more embarrassed than he was when John had walked in on Dutch and he when they were naked. He was wrong, he was so very wrong.

Both men mounted their respective horses and rode back to camp in silence. The sharpest of knives could not have sliced through the tension between them.

Arthur had done nothing but silently curse at himself. He couldn't understand, he had no feelings towards John, never had. Then why had his body reacted in the way it did? They had fought many times in the past, never with the intent to hurt each other. It had always been a more or less friendly wrestling match. Some times for training, other times to work out frustrations. But never had there been a reaction between his legs, not during, not after. So why now? 

He risked a side glance in John's direction. The man stared straight ahead of him, no doubt lost in his own thoughts. Arthur hoped this wouldn't be the end of their friendship. He had to say something, find some excuse to brush it all off as some stupid late reaction to something Dutch had done or said. That could work, probably weren't even a lie. 

As soon as he opened his mouth to speak John had sent his horse into a gallop. It was as if he knew that a conversation was on it's way and wanted no part in it. Arthur sighed, cursed himself again, camp was far away and the ride back would surely be agonizing for both of them. 

No more than the top half of the sun was visible above the horizon when they made it back to camp. Arthur practically bolted towards his room, all he wanted to do was hide away forever. At least whenever John was in camp. As he feared, John hadn't said a word to him in the last few hours. The younger outlaw's silence was a bad omen, he was certain that anything he said would not have gone over well, so he hadn't either. 

~~~

A soft knock on his door made him look up from his journal for the first time in the last hour or two. He was sat on his bed and scribbled away about the horrid events from the day. 

Arthur closed his journal with a deep sigh, desperate to be left alone, he prayed it wasn't Dutch. The man could read his mind all too well and this was not a situation he would want to explain to him. 

“Come in.”

When his door was pushed open Arthur immediately recognized the black shirt. It was John.

“Hey...” John entered, closed the door behind him.

In an instant Arthur's mouth dried out again, John was probably here to tell him to stay the hell away.

“You uh, been up here for a long time.” John said.

“Y-yeah...” The hoarseness in Arthur's voice made him clear his throat. Arthur frowned, it wasn't like John to tackle any issue head on. The man usually preferred to hide away and let things blow over, they were both similar in that regard. So why the hell was he here? 

“Listen... John.” Arthur got to his feet. “This is-”

John cut him off with a raised finger. “I'll go first.”

Arthur's brows shot up, he remained silent.

“Earlier on, was it 'cause of me?” John asked.

Arthur's cheeks flushed, this was a bit too confrontational for him. But if he threw John out the door, then surely the tension between them would never end. “I ain't sure.” He lowered his head, eye contact was out of the question.

“Tell me why it happened.” John said.

When did his room get so hot? Also what the hell was going on with John, he had never seen the man so assertive. “I can't...” There was very little volume behind Arthur's voice.

“Can't or won't?” John asked.

Arthur hesitated. What the hell was John playing at? This seemed different from his usual needling. He wasn't going to tell him the real reason. Feeling pleasure when Dutch was on top of him was one thing. The man was big, strong, a leader. John wasn't like that, the young outlaw was lean, a follower, not his type. At least not the type he'd want on top of him.

“Sit down.” John ordered.

“What?” Arthur's voice threatened to leave him entirely.

“Sit.” John repeated.

Arthur backed up and sat down on his bed. What is going on? Why is he listening, he should get up, throw John out, right now. 

“That's it huh? I figured.” John grinned.

“W-what?”

“Arthur Morgan get's off on being told what to do.” The grin on John's face widened.

“No, I don't. Listen, earlier on, was just a thing 'kay? Ain't got nothing to do with ya. I started thinking 'bout Dutch, 's all.” Even though he wasn't in pain, Arthur could swear that his whole head was on fire right now. 

“Oh? Does Dutch ride you like a horse, or a doggy?” John stepped even closer.

Arthur stood up, the man was out of line now. “Listen, Martson. I do-”

“Sit.” John's stern voice cut him off.

Arthur had no idea the man had it in him. It was so damned good, he really was a sucker for this, John was right. Against his better judgment he sat back down.

“Good boy.” John smirked.

Arthur felt a distinct tingle between his legs.

Shit.

“There we go, now things is the same as they was earlier.” John set his foot down against the edge of Arthur's bed, right between his legs.

Arthur downcast his eyes, the tip of the man's boot hovered dangerously close to his groin, to the bulge in his pants. Fuck, it was more than just a tingle, he was almost fully erect after only a few words.

“John... if Dutch finds out we-”

“Sshhh, pup.” John leaned in, one had reached behind Arthur and rubbed the back of his head.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Dutch 'n Hosea just started a game of chess outside, you worry too much.” John cooed.

“I... don't, don't understand.” Arthur struggled to find the words he needed as blood rapidly drained from his brain. “Y-you ain't like this.”

“I ain't too interested in being touched by a man, no. But I do like the idea of having an Arthur sized doggy to do with as I please. You sure as heck seem fine with it.” John's foot snaked forward, the tip of his boot went under Arthur's balls and lifted them.

Arthur moaned, reflexively he closed his legs.

“No. Did I say you could do that?” John helped him out, spread his legs again for him.

“I enjoy this Arthur. I ain't too sure why, thought about it for the last few hours. I just do okay. If you'll let me, I promise to make it enjoyable for you too.” John continued.

“But Dutch-”

“How many things have we done behind Dutch's back in the last eighteen years?” John raised his brows at him.

“Lot's...aahhh.” Arthur drew in his bottom lip when John nudged his balls again, he could feel bits of pre-cum leak out of his head.

“Yes or no, pup.” John's index finger touched the bottom of his chin and pushed his head up until their eyes locked with each other.

His heart was racing, he could scarcely believe how quick John had found a way to get him aroused. If Dutch found out he'd surely murder one of them, or both. He must be sick, a masochist of sorts because the thought of it only excited him further.

“Yes.” Arthur whispered.

“Good boy.” John cooed, his hand returned to the back of Arthur's head, stroked him reassuringly.

John leaned in closer. “From now on, when we're alone, you'll call me sir, 's that clear?”

Arthur's head slowly moved up and down. He watched as John turned off the oil lamp in his room and peaked out of the window, he assumed the man looked for Dutch. When he turned back to face him Arthur could make out a smile on his face, must have seen something he liked.

“Down on all fours, pup.” John pointed at the ground in front of him.

Arthur almost leaped at the man's feet, he was eager to comply, too eager. This was John, he shouldn't be listening, if only he could force some blood back up into his brains.

A brief squeak was followed by the room being lit up again. Arthur tilted his head backwards so he could look up at John.

“You see them metal tips on my boots? I want them nice and shiny, put that tongue to work.”

Arthur lowered his head, John wiggled one foot as the younger outlaw waited for him to get started. This was so humiliating, he could easily throw John across the room and subdue him without breaking a sweat. And yet here we was, on all four at the man's feet, seconds away from using his tongue to lick the dirt off the man's boots. Fuck, was he really that much of a degenerate? Sick in the head? Did it even matter as long as he was enjoying himself? All these questions and more. 

A hand on the back of his head pushed him down, he was taking too long to John's liking.

Arthur's face was close to John's boot. Close enough that his hot breath left behind a cloudy stain on the metal tip. He was still hesitant, if he did this, there would be no turning back. John and himself would have this memory forever.

“Arthur, you don't have to if you don't want to.” The voice from above was kind and caring, enough to warm his heart. It must mean that John had both their best interests in mind, like a true friend.

Arthur felt himself harden again, he lowered his head and stuck his tongue out. Cold metal touched his warm tongue as he traced it around the tip of John's. 

John remained silent above him.

Arthur proceeded to do the same with the man's other boot, he had to pause a few times to spit out some dirt. Not a single spot remained untouched when he finally finished and craned his neck to look up at John. The man had a small bulge of his own, not quite fully erect. But at least it was a clear sign that he enjoyed himself, which made Arthur happy. 

“Stay.” John walked around behind him and knelt down.

A hand against the back of his neck forced him to bend over further. His ass was high up in the air while his forehead touched the wooden floor. Fingers undid the buttons on his pants and pulled his full length out, it immediately sprung up against his abdomen. 

“You done good, pup. Time for your reward.”

John spat into his own hand and wrapped it around Arthur's cock. There was no worship, no love, just fast and firm strokes. He could feel John's bulge through the man's pants as it pressed up against his ass. When a loud moan escaped from his mouth the hand against the back of his neck quickly clamped it shut.

“Quiet, pup.” John hissed.

“Hmmpff.” Arthur moaned against the hand, which only made it clamp down harder. John's rough treatment of his shaft had built him up quickly, this whole experience was new and absolutely amazing. It didn't take much for him to burst in the man's hand. Every fiber in his body tensed up, his back arched from pure bliss as spurts of his cum continued to shoot out.

John gripped and squeezed his cock, pumped him as he came furiously.

“Jesus, you're a loud one ain't ya? Surprised I've never heard you before.” John removed his hands from him.

Arthur breathed heavily. “Y-yeah,” was all he managed to say.

“We'll have to do something about that next time.” John tousled his hair.

“N-next time?” Arthur managed to raise his head when he calmed down a bit, sat up on his knees.

“I'll give you a choice. Clean this up and we'll do more of this, a lot more.” John held out the cum stained hand, it hovered close to Arthur's mouth. “Refuse and I won't never talk about this again, not to you or anyone else, you have my word.”

Arthur's eyes darted between the hand which was covered in his own seed and John's eyes. He licked his lips, leaned forward and sucked a few of John's fingers into his mouth.

He added more of the man's finger's to his mouth and stroked the top of his tongue against them. The taste of his own salty cum filled his mouth and nostrils. It was disgusting and amazing at the same time. The moan which lingered in his throat remained muffled as he had an entire hand minus a thumb in his mouth. John's fingers almost reached the back of his throat, he relfexively gagged and swore he heard the first moan come from John's mouth.

John's clean hand touched the top of his head and gently scratched it. His cock twitched again.

“Yeah, we'll be doing a lot more of this, pup.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much Dutch / Arthur. I wanted to explore some John / Arthur puppy play, but with bottom Arthur. Hope no one minds! I'd love to hear what you think.
> 
> Thank you for reading. <3


	5. Chapter 5

Fancy house after fancy house passed him by as he stared out of the coach's window. With Dutch beside him and John on the reins they were back in Saint Denis. On their way to Fornsworth's special party which Dutch had managed to get them an invitation to.

Arthur hated this place. The dirty smell, the people, there was too much of both of those in this God forsaken city. He had been silent the whole ride. His mind still struggled to process what happened between himself and John. Last night was something else, something previously unthinkable. John had touched his most sensitive parts and made him burst into the man's hand.

Little Johnny Marston of all people.

If it had been a bad experience or a quick drunken rump it would have been so much easier to understand. But it was explosive, unlocked a desire from deep inside which he didn't know he had. Yes, Dutch and him had a similar thing, sort of. But his mentor had never treated him like a lesser, a beast. Dutch was possessive, controlling, a charmer with the ability to bend people's will. John on the other hand, was none of those, not even remotely, at least not on the outside. Turns out his friend unlocked a hidden desire of his own.

Is that what made it so good for him? The fact that John was younger than he, not as strong as he, but still held such power over his mind. Maybe. Or maybe Dutch just kept him so pent up all the time, enough that he'd be willing to do anything for a good time. A slave to his sexual desires.

“Whatever is it that has kept your mind so occupied?” Dutch's words interrupted his thoughts.

“Hm? Oh, nothing.” What would Dutch do if he ever found out about John and himself? Nothing good, surely.

“We're here.” John called out from the front of the coach as it ground to a halt.

Arthur shuffled to his left and exited from the same side as Dutch had. The size of Fornsworth's mansion impressed him just as much as it had the first time. With more windows and rooms than he cared to count and a garden larger than the whole of Shady Belle. Rich folk, Arthur scoffed. 

Dutch had turned to face him and started to fiddle with his clothes, tidied and straightened them for him. He swatted at the older man's hand. “I'm fine.” 

“We have to look our best, Mr. Callahan.” Dutch eyed him over.

“How many parties does this feller have? We was just here two days ago.”

“I told you, this is a more exclusive event, reserved only for a few, it'll be our ticket into that factory.” Dutch fiddled with his own clothes.

“Exclusive?” Arthur noticed there were only a few other coaches besides their own.

“Just go along with it Arthur.” Dutch chided.

The massive double doors were opened for them as soon as they walked up the steps. A servant greeted them, ushered them through a long hallway and down some steps. 

“Wasn't the party room up there?” Arthur quietly said as his thumb pointed behind them.

“I already told you, this event is for special guests only.” Dutch sounded annoyed.

“What does that even mean?” Arthur easily mimicked Dutch's annoyance.

The servant interrupted their quiet conversation when he stopped in front of another set of doors. Arthur expected the man to open them, instead the servant pointed to a singular door on their left. 

Arthur was wary of him. He hadn't seen a single guest during their long walk through this far too large house, mansion, whatever. Dutch on the other hand seemed perfectly comfortable as he entered the room. He told himself that they're on a job, easy to rob rich folk, follow Dutch's lead and it will be fine. The take will be great and it's unlikely they'll ever have to dodge any bullets for it. 

“Sir?” The servant seemed confused at his lack of movement. Arthur gave him an apologetic smile and followed Dutch.

The room they were in was fairly small compared to some others he had seen. The walls on his left and right were lined up with dressers, a lot of them. Other than those and a lonely sofa there was nothing remarkable around him.

“You may store your clothes in here, sir.” The servant opened a dresser, it was empty. The man stepped back to the door and stood in front of it with his hands behind his back.

Arthur's brows pulled together as his eyes darted between Dutch and the servant. Both men stared at him, waited for him to... 

Oh hell no.

“Dutch?”

Dutch rolled his eyes as if Arthur were just an unruly child, the older man turned to face the servant.

“Give us a moment please, my companion appears to be struck by first time nerves.”

The servant bowed his head and exited the room. Dutch waited for the door to close again.

“Arthur.”

“Dutch.”

“ _Arthur._ ”

“You outta your goddamned mind? I ain't taking my clothes off, the hell is going on anyways?!” 

“Keep your voice down, Arthur, before you ruin everything.”

“I ain't go-” Arthur stopped himself, took a few deep breaths to calm down. “You'd best be explaining everything right now or I'm walking out of here.”

Dutch let out a frustrated sigh. “Always with the doubting, how tiresome.”

“ _Dutch_.”

Dutch raised his hands in defeat. “Our host put two and two together and inquired me about the nature of our-” The man waved between them before he continued, “relationship.”

“You told him?”

“Of course, it's best to be forthcoming about certain things. Besides, I could tell he had a similar interest towards men.” Dutch smirked, no doubt proud of his deductive reasoning.

Dutch raised a finger, cut him off before he could speak. “It got us an invite to this and soon to the factory which will land thousands of dollars in our pockets. Faith, Arthur.”

“What exactly is _this_?”

“I ain't too sure. Apparently it's very popular in England to hold these kind of events, or so I'm told.” Dutch shrugged his shoulders.

“Your uncertainty overwhelms me with confidence.”

“Always so eloquent when you have a snide remark.” Dutch noted. “Just play along Arthur, it ain't that hard.”

Arthur huffed. “Fine, you get naked then.”

Dutch rolled his eyes. “I can not, Mr. Fornsworth is very much aware of who has which role between us.”

“Oh, ain't that lovely, you told him all about us then huh? Did ya happen to show him some of our wanted posters too? I'm sure he'd love to see one of them.”

“That's enough, boy.” Dutch snarled, “I know what I'm doing.”

Arthur turned his head away, he pushed too far, questioned too much. Dutch had taken a more serious tone which meant he'd tolerate no more of it.

“You either do as I say and show some faith. Or, you walk out of that door and tell everyone in camp that we missed out on thousands of dollars. Only because you were too afraid to be naked in front of a handful of people.”

Arthur's jaw clenched. Dutch was right, this shouldn't be a big deal, but it was. He hated being exposed to people he knew, never mind people he had never met. 

Arthur took a deep breath. It's just a job, he could do this. Dutch would parade him around for a bit or whatever the hell Fornsworth wanted, and then they'd be out of here. He could do this.

Arthur stepped out of his clothes with a great amount of reluctance and handed the pile over to Dutch.

“I won't let anything bad happen, do you trust me?” Dutch placed a hand against his cheek.

Arthur closed his eyes and sighed. “I trust you, I don't trust these rich bastards.”

“If anyone mistreats you, or so much as looks at you wrong, then I will snap every neck I see.”

When Arthur opened his eyes, they locked with Dutch's icy cold stare. His mentor was serious about his threat, it warmed his heart. He nodded.

“You look stunning as always my boy.” Dutch gave his cheek a brief stroke before he opened the door and addressed the servant. “I believe we are ready.”

Arthur took another few deep breaths, the money would be worth it, he could do this, he was ready.

The servant entered the room with them. He opened a drawer adjacent to the door and retrieved a roll of black nylon cord. The man walked up to him and craned his neck towards Dutch while his free hand waved at Arthur's groin area. “May I?”

Dutch seemed equally puzzled by this but nodded at the servant. When said servant reached for his cock, Arthur reflexively stepped back.

Nope, he was _not_ ready for this.

“This is customary attire during these events for someone in your position, sir.” The servant stated.

Arthur really wanted to grab the man by his throat and shove him up against the wall. He'd show him exactly who was in what position. 

Behind the servant he could see Dutch, who held up his hand, the man rubbed his thumb and index finger together. Right, the money. Another sigh, but he nodded at the servant. Later on he'll accidentally murder Dutch. 

The servant got to work. First he looped the cord under Arthur's balls and knotted it tightly above the base of his shaft. He then pulled in down under his balls and around the top of his scrotum. Arthur couldn't help but grimace he watched the servant manipulate his genitals. Dutch on the other hand seemed overly interested in this new technique. Figures. 

The man looped the rope around his balls and squeezed them before he once more knotted it off above his shaft. Arthur swallowed as he started to get erect from the pressure against his member. The man continued, unfazed by any physical response from Arthur. The rope was wound around the length of his shaft and knotted off once more at the tip of his cock. A long strand hung loose, the man took it in his hand and retrieved something from his pocket. It was a short, black leather belt with a metallic ring at the end of it. The loose strand was tied to the ring and the servant handed the belt to Dutch. 

Arthur felt his face heat up, all this was so Dutch could hold him on a leash, by his cock no less.

Dutch of course was beaming as the older man's eyes remained fixated on his groin, he tugged on the leash. A wide grin appeared on his face when Arthur was forced to step closer to him. 

He'll have to find a good excuse to explain to the others how his hands accidentally strangled Dutch to death.

“This way please, sirs.” The servant lead them outside and opened the double doors.

As Dutch lead him on by his cock of all things, Arthur's bare feet went from touching cold stone to walking on soft red carpet. There were seven other couples in the large room, each with their own naked man on a leash exactly like he was. The only difference was that all the other naked men seemed much younger than he, mid to late twenties, he guessed. He felt even more embarrassed now. 

The room as whole seemed much nicer and more comfortable than the one they were in a few days ago. This one had several sofa's along the wall. A dining table stood in the middle and various paintings of naked men adorned the walls. Snacks and drinks were neatly organized on a larger table on his left. The other guests were scattered around the room in smaller groups as they chatted to each other. A few of them casually held on to what Arthur assumed was their own partner by the leash around their cocks. While a few seemed to have a much more hands on approach with the naked body next to them. What the hell had Dutch dragged him into? 

“Mr. Lockwood, so glad you could make it.” Fornsworth spoke with his thick British accent as he approached them.

“Naturally, I must say, not what I had expected.” Dutch waved his hand around.

“I did inform you it would be quite the eccentric showing, I trust you are comfortable with it, considering you're still here.”

Fornsworth leaned to his left, his eyes went over Arthur's body from bottom to top, lingered longer than he liked near his groin area.

“Heavens me, you weren't deceptive at all when you said your boy was a fine specimen.”

Fine specimen? Arthur clenched his fists.

He couldn't see the smirk on Dutch's face from behind him, but he heard it as his mentor spoke.

“I only fancy the best.” Dutch said. “Tell me Henry, what sort of event is this?”

Fornsworth rested a hand on Dutch back. “Right you are! Please forgive me for being elusive about the true nature of this gathering. This is after all, a much newer practice in these lands. In Britain, pleasuring one and another is seen as an act of pleasure, not just purely for procreation as it is here.”

“So you all participate in these activities in front of each other?” Dutch asked.

Arthur held his breath. He hoped the man would answer with a resounding 'no.'

“Oh heavens no, unless a patron specifically requests it, and the others agree. I assure you, everything that goes on in here is entirely consensual, from all parties.” Henry said.

Arthur let out a sigh of relief.

“What exactly goes on here then?” Every so often Dutch gave the leash a small tug.

Arthur was relieved that he felt to anxious to have any sort of physical response to that. He was sure he otherwise would have. He was less sure if his shaft could actually get up with the restrictive cord around it. The more he thought about it, the longer his eyes remained locked on the leash in Dutch's hand, the idea that Dutch held on to him by- 

Stop.

He had to stop thinking about it, already felt his cock twitch from excitement. Money, think about the money. John would surely get a kick out of this, holding on to him as he walked him around and praised him for being a good dog.

Stop, shit.

Crap, now he missed Henry's whole explanation about this damned party.

“So yes, the rules are simple. No patron is permitted to touch another pet unless permitted to do so by their owner.” Henry said.

The other naked men were seen as pets, owned by a master. So he wasn't alone, perhaps not even sick in the head for feeling how he felt about being treated as one. Or maybe they were all sick souls.

“If requested you may use one of the private rooms, there are two. One for regular play and the other for a more, different kind of thing. Yet another practice I happily brought along from overseas. Surprisingly appealing to everyone I've introduced it to so far.” Henry had a wide grin on his face. 

Dutch had tilted his head and seemed curious, Arthur not so much.

“Please do relax, I hope you'll both enjoy yourselves. Follow the queues of the others if you're ever uncertain on how to act. You're also most welcome to ask me anything, being a first timer and all.” Henry's eyes were on him as the man continued to speak. “I do hope we'll see much more of you.” 

“We'll have to see how enjoyable the evening turns out to be.” Dutch replied.

“I have yet to disappoint.” Henry chuckled and patted Dutch on the shoulder, the man walked off and joined a group of four for some idle chatter.

“Cigar, sir?” I waiter walked up with a wooden box in his hand. The man was completely naked save for a bow-tie around his neck. Arthur guessed it was used to distinguish him from the others as a server.

“Much obliged.” Dutch stuck the cigar between his teeth and leaned forward as the younger man lit it for him.

“Nice to see you're in your element.” Arthur quietly said with as much sarcasm as he could.

Dutch turned to face him. “You'd best be careful boy, it seems I'll be learning about a lot of new ways to make you squirm and beg for mercy.” He gruffly said.

A sharp tug on the leash forced him closer to Dutch. “Shit. Can you not?”

“I gave you a choice to walk through these doors or leave. You choose to stay, which means you know you want this.” Dutch whispered. 

“Was hardly a choice.” Arthur mumbled.

“As you wish.” Dutch said as he spun him around to face the double doors. “Leave. Or stay and enjoy an evening of absolute degeneracy with daddy in control of all your needs.”

Arthur let out a quiet moan. His cock twitched and strained against the cord which was tightly wound around it. Dutch had him hooked, literally and figuratively. Bastard used the perfect words to push the button which directed all the blood flow from his brain to his cock. 

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much going on in this one, just a bit of setup for what's to come. Filth ahead, be warned... <3
> 
> Thank you for reading, it's always nice to hear what you think!! 
> 
> I can't imagine it being much for this chapter with so little happening, but comments are always appreciated!.


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur hissed when Dutch pulled him forward again. His bound cock and balls had swelled to a slight purple. He had asked the older man who held him on a leash several times to free his aching balls from their prison. But his request always fell on deaf ears. _'The other boys are managing just fine, so can you.'_ Dutch had said. 

Bastard.

Dutch had taken him from group to group as the older man chatted up all the guests, no doubt looking for the next job. It would have been fine if they would all stop commenting on how good Dutch's pet looked. How they had never seen such a muscled man being kept as one. Arthur hated it, hated it so much. Not only was he incredibly uncomfortable with being naked in front of all these rich bastards and their boys or pets, whatever they called them. He also hated being talked about as if he weren't standing right behind Dutch. 

When he asked for a strong drink to help him through the evening, Dutch had ignored him. While the uptight city man simply laughed at him. Apparently _pets_ are not allowed any refreshments outside of their assigned meal time. So degrading and yet another thing to be annoyed about. 

The only good thing so far was that Fornsworth had that good looking young waiter as his companion. The young man looked devilishly handsome in his birth suit; and Arthur still longed for a chance to have a private moment with him. 

Another tug on his cock, a sharper one than before. It drew his attention to Dutch, who's eyes were exactly where his own had lingered only a second ago. Shit.

“What ever shall I do to make you understand that you should only have eyes for me, my boy.” Dutch pulled him even closer. The man's free hand wandered down to his groin and circled the tip of Arthur's exposed cock with his thumb. 

Arthur suppressed a moan. With the amount of alcohol his mentor had consumed it was no surprise to him that the older man had gotten more bold. Then again, even without alcohol Dutch would surely be more than happy to show him off to others. His cock strained against the ropes which held it. It tried it's damnedest to get upright as Dutch continued his circling motions. Arthur's hand reached out and grabbed hold of the man's wrist to stop him. Dutch didn't care about others in the room, he couldn't say the same for himself. 

A mistake.

He deeply swallowed when Dutch's lips pressed together, dark brown eyes narrowed at him. His mentor rarely tolerated resistance. To challenge his position of power in a room full of men who had similar cravings was the worst thing he could have done. 

“Your pet seems rather unruly, is this a new experience for him? Or perhaps for both of you.” The uptight city man chided.

Arthur held his breath at the strangers words. Dutch would snap his neck for such a comment and their whole charade would be over. His mind conjured up an image of him as he ran from the law, naked with his balls and shaft in some strange rope prison, not good. His hand let go of Dutch's and he lowered his head. 

“I'm sorry sir, I must practice more restraint.” He said in the hopes of calming Dutch. All those years where he watched Hosea use words to wriggle his way out of a bad situation had thought him something. Not much, but something.

But he was met with silence, too afraid to raise his head and provoke Dutch further. His eyes focused on the uptight man's feet to see if they'd soon be joined by the rest of the fellers body. 

“My friends, is something amiss?” Henry asked as he walked up to them.

“Our newcomers here seem to be having a bit of a power struggle.” The uptight bastard chuckled at them.

Arthur wished the man would just shut up, the fool had no idea who he insulted.

Henry brought forth a chuckle of his own. “Mr. Lockwood's pet is a big man, dear Gregory. I hardly doubt you'd be able to tame such a powerful beast yourself. Personally I find the gentleman's efforts to be quite remarkable. You should observe and learn from him, as opposed to your callous mockery.”

His brows shot up, he hadn't expected Henry to be such a charmer. A necessary skill if you host as many parties as he seems to, Arthur assumed. A powerful beast he called him, how awkwardly kind.

“Thank you, Henry.” Dutch said through grit teeth.

“Come my friend, I think we both need a moments respite from the rest of the group.” Henry rested a hand on Dutch's back and lead the four of them to another room.

Arthur did his best to not look at the young, naked waiter who now walked beside him. Both of them were lead on by their respective leashes. He did his best, but hadn't succeeded, unlike him the younger man had kept his head lowered the whole time. Henry and him must have been at this for a long time for the boy to be so subservient.

Subservient...

His mentor's snake like tongue had rubbed off on him. Arthur couldn't help but cringe at his own thoughts.

The room Henry had taken them to was a far cry away from the one they had just left. The walls were no longer adorned with questionable paintings. Comfortable seating had been replaced by objects he had never seen before. The smell of leather overwhelmed his nostrils, no doubt because everything he saw was either made out of it or padded by it. 

The wall on his right was filled with leather straps of various lengths. The further along the walls his eyes went, the more ominous all the various items seemed to become. Whips, canes and other instruments of torture. What the hell? 

The left side of the room was just as strange to him. In the center of it stood a large black cross shaped piece of furniture. It was leather padded with various straps attached to it. It's purpose became clear as his anxiety grew. The thing, for lack of a better word, in the center of the room had confused him the most. It looked like a wooden horse, as all things in here seemed to be it too was padded with leather. Had they been lured in to a trap? Surely not, Henry and his companion were no match for Dutch and himself, not even if they were armed; not at this range. 

“Welcome to my room of dark desires. Well, don't keep me in suspense my friend, what do you think?” Henry had spread his arms as he presented the room to Dutch.

“I...” Dutch seemed as puzzled as he was.

“Fear not! I understand this room can be quite daunting for a first time viewer.” Henry held up a finger as he continued. “But, I can assure you, no guest nor their pet has left this room and not requested a return trip.” He grinned.

“Isn't that right my boy?” Henry smiled at his companion, tugged downwards on his cock leash. In response the young man lower himself to his knees. 

“Yes master.” The young man quietly said.

Arthur wasn't convinced, not at all. His instincts screamed at him to run and never look back. What the hell had Dutch gotten them into?

“I am intrigued.” Dutch finally said.

Of course he was, the bastard.

“Samuel here used to be very unruly, but the more time we spent in here the more compliant he became.” Henry patted the young man on his head.

“Through torture?” Dutch asked the same questioned which had been on his mind.

“Yes, but not the kind I assume you imagine, this is a more pleasurable practice, for both parties.” A lopsided grin appeared on Henry's face.

Pleasurable torture? That was the most ridiculous thing Arthur thought he had ever heard.

“Do you enjoy the things your master does to you in this room, boy?” Henry smiled down to the man on his knees who nodded in response.

“Would you care to try for yourselves?” Henry asked with an amused smirk on his face.

“Yes.”

“No.” He said in unison with Dutch's _'yes.'_

Both men turned their heads towards him, Dutch's mouth was agape.

“I ain't interested in your torture, pleasurable or not, which I highly doubt it is”.

“Arthur.” Dutch's voice was stern as ever.

“It's quite alright Mr. Van der Linde. You needn't keep up the pretense on my account.” Henry said.

Both Arthur and Dutch now turned their heads towards him. Arthur's right hand automatically reached for his gun belt, of course he was naked. Dammit, Dutch.

“Allow me a chance to explain.” Henry's hands went up. The man was either insane or brave.

Arthur had already stepped closer to Dutch, enough for their shoulders to almost touch. The leather belt attached to the cord around his scrotum dangled between his legs as Dutch no longer held on to it. Both outlaws were ready for a fight if they had to. 

“I'm listening.” Dutch said.

“Pardon the ruse, although I suppose we are even on that front.”

Arthur didn't care for no explanation, he'd rather be ready for whatever may be coming their way. He opened the door and peeked outside. Nothing had changed outside the room they were in. No men with guns, no law, no Pinkerton's. Only the same rich folk with their naked partners.

“It's clear.” He closed the door again.

“Of course it is. I assure you, no one but me is aware of your true identity.”

Dutch eyed him questioningly.

“I'm a well traveled man Mr. Van der Linde. I wasn't certain until I saw the pair of you together, even more so when you seemed overly interested in one of my factories.”

Nervous as he was, especially without any weapons, he checked outside the door again, still clear.

“You, boy. Get rid of this.” Arthur waved at his groin.

Samuel lifted his head, looked up at Henry who nodded down at the young man. With the okay from his master the young man shifted over towards Arthur, and got to work on unwinding the cord around his cock and balls.

“You had me fooled Mr. Van der Linde. But Mr. ...Morgan? I believe it is. Well with a body like that he's obviously a man of hard labor, not some rich oil tycoon, no offense to you, sir.” Henry bowed his head at him.

Arthur couldn't help but give Dutch an 'I told you so' look. Hosea would have been the right man for this job, not him. Dutch was too obsessed with keeping him close, now their safety was at risk because of it.

“So why haven't you set the law down on us?” Dutch asked.

“I have accumulated a vast amount of wealth, as I'm sure you are aware of. I no longer seek anything other in life than unadulterated pleasure.” Henry replied.

“And where exactly do we fit in?” Dutch raised his brows at the man.

“Simple. I have something you want and you have something I want.” Henry held his head high.

Arthur's attention was focused on the boy who's fingers worked tirelessly to undo the knots around his shaft. He knew he should be alert, make sure they were safe. But that beautiful young man with his oh so sweet lavender scent was exactly where Arthur wanted him; on his knees at the perfect height for... 

Stop.

Shit he had to stop, but his cock couldn't care less, it twitched and hardened from being manipulated by those soft fingers. The twenty something year old handled him with such care, he wondered if it was a deliberate distraction to catch him off guard.

It was working.

“That right there is exactly what I want.” Henry stroked a hand through Samuel's hair, but his eyes were on Arthur. “Never have I seen such a specimen. A man of true strength and beauty all woven into one perfect body.”

Henry's greed filled gaze confused him. Man must be blind to think he has a perfect body, no doubt a lie to make him feel at ease. They were up to something. Maybe Fornsworth thought his pretty words could buy him the time he needed for the law to show up.

“And what do you have that I want?”

Arthur's eyes snapped to Dutch, was his mentor really considering this?

“Money, dear friend, I have money.” Henry smiled.

“...Arthur is not for sale.” There was hesitation in Dutch's voice, the pauze before he replied too long for a man who spoke with resolve.

“Oh please, let's not. When you spend enough time in my world, you soon learn that everything can be bought, all it takes is the right price.”

Dutch cocked his head. “How much?”

“Five hundred dollars for half an hour.”

Arthur had opened his mouth to protest, but as soon as Henry stated the amount it snapped shut again. Five hundred large for half an hour was an insane amount of money. But that would make him a whore, which he wasn't, Dutch wouldn't allow it anyways.

“Deal.” Dutch hastily said.

“Excuse me?” Law or not, Arthur grabbed Dutch by the arm and pulled him over to the other side of the room. “I ain't some cheap whore for you to bargain with, Dutch.”

Dutch narrowed his eyes. “You will be whatever I need you to be.”

“You seen what kind of room we is in? This feller ain't after some every day good time.” Arthur's hand pointed out the crazy contraption against the opposite wall.

“So you'd rather spend days of planning for a job which may or may not pay equal or less than this _and_ could get you killed in the process?”

“I didn't say that. I said I ain't no whore.” 

“The women in camp do plenty of it, but you are above it?” Dutch chided.

“I ain't no woman.” He snarled.

“No, but you are very pretty.” Dutch's hand reached for his side but Arthur stopped his advance.

That God damned drunken fool. They were in danger and Dutch seemed as relaxed as ever.

“You forgetting that man knows who we is? Law could be on their way right now.” Arthur kept his voice low.

“They would have been here already, if the man had ill intentions he would never have confronted us alone.” 

“Says you.” Arthur was tempted to knock some sense into Dutch. He really was.

“That I do. Five hundred Arthur, and who knows how much more if we play this right.”

“We?!”

Dutch rolled his eyes. “You.”

“This is what fascinated me about the pair of you, the dynamic you appear to have is rather unique.” Henry said from across the room.

“Shut up!” Both outlaws exclaimed in perfect unison.

“My boy, trust me. I don't see you as a cheap anything, you are mine and I always want what's best for you. If that means making sure you earn us money in a way which won't have bullets flying at you, then that is how I'd prefer it.”

“Ain't. No. Whore.”

Arthur was too slow to stop Dutch's hand as it darted towards his cock and grabbed hold of it, the older man gave it a firm squeeze while his teeth were bared at him.

“You sure about that boy?” His mentor growled.

Arthur groaned, his own hand grabbed hold of Dutch's wrist, but he didn't force the man off.

“One lesson you still need to learn is that I know what you want better than you do. I don't force you into situations I know you'd hate. _Stop_ doubting me.”

Dutch had lost it, how could the man think about anything other than the danger they were in?

“We should check with John-” Arthur was silenced when Dutch's index finger pressed against his lips.

“I know you will enjoy this, do you trust me?” Dutch's left hand brushed against Arthur's cheek, while the older man's other hand did something less innocent lower down.

He closed his eyes. This was unfair, of course he trusted him. But if he said yes, it meant he agreed with whatever the hell was to come. Then again, Dutch would never put them in danger, drunk or not. The man must have seen something in Henry which he hadn't or couldn't.

Arthur nodded.

“If I may interject.” Henry walked up to them. “If it would ease your concerns I will happily provide you with a loaded pistol.”

“That won't be necessary, Henry. I believe your intentions to be genuine. After all if you did summon the law I'm sure you're well aware you'd be the first to die.” Dutch threatened.

“How exhilarating.” Henry said.

The man seemed completely unfazed by Dutch's threat, he was either a fool, crazy or both. Yet another reason to get the hell out sooner rather than later.

“Why?” Arthur asked, Henry seemed puzzled by the question, so he continued. “If this ain't some trick, why is you so eager to pay for some private time with two dangerous people.”

“You said it yourself, you're dangerous. Nothing like the handsome but meek boys I am used to, a true challenge.”

It was Arthur's turn to be bewildered. Henry guided him over towards a full length mirror in the far corner of the room. The man waved at all of Arthur as they both stared back at their reflections. 

“Look at yourself.” Henry said as his hands wandered all over Arthur's arms. “So broad, muscular and strong. With your history as a crook I don't doubt these arms have subdued many men.”

Arthur frowned at his reflection, he saw nothing special. Just a fool who touched a bigger fool.

“The perfect predator.” Henry's hands wandered down to Arthur's abs. “How could I pass on an opportunity to turn you into prey?”

“This is what I do, dear boy.” Arthur's deepening frown prompted Henry to continue, “I hunt for willing predators and work them until they beg me for mercy.”

Arthur could see Dutch had crept closer to them, no doubt ready to throw Henry to the ground if the man touched him somewhere he shouldn't. He was surprised the older man had allowed him to be this close at all.

“Do you beg, Arthur?” Henry spoke more quietly. 

“No.” He croaked.

“You will dear boy, you will.” Henry whispered.

Dutch cleared his throat when Henry's hand wandered too low.

Henry stepped away from Arthur. “My apologies, your pet is rather irresistible. I can't imagine it being easy for you to not have your hands on him at all times.”

Dutch's lips curled up. “It's not easy, no.”

Arthur's cheeks flushed, his embarrassment masked by a hatred of being talked about as if he weren't present, these men seemed to love that.

“I want you both to be as comfortable as possible. This evening is about pleasure, not trepidation.” Henry turned to face Dutch.

“I agree.” Dutch said.

“If you wish we could re-join the other guests for some more mind numbing banter. Unfortunately Mr. Morgan here won't be able to steal from them this time around, with having nowhere to hide anything, that is.” Henry's smile widened as his eyes traced across Arthur's naked form.  
Shit, the man knew about that too. He was sure no one had seen him steal, maybe the man just assumed. Arthur lowered his head when he noticed the scowl on Dutch's face. He hadn't messed up, there was no way Henry saw him lift anything from anyones pockets. Now Dutch saw him as incompetent, dammit.

“Or we can relax here and enjoy a few drinks while we discuss the details our arrangement, it'll be less tiresome for all of us. You are far more interesting than all of those dullards out there.”

Both Dutch and Henry agreed to remain in the room, apparantly it hadn't mattered what Arthur thought, of course not.

Henry had gotten a few servants to bring in a small table and tree chairs. It was a strange experience to sit at a table with an expensive drink in his hands while being naked. At least he finally got to enjoy Samuel's nakedness some more, the young man being the only one who still knelt on the floor.

Whatever Henry had given them, it was strong, Arthur didn't want to drink much, wanted to keep his senses together, just in case. But even after a few glasses he felt himself increasingly relax.

“Arthur, go check on John, let him know we'll still be here for several hours.” Dutch ordered.

“I'm naked.” He slurred. Four damned drinks, he shouldn't be slurring.

“Which means you have forgotten how to get dressed?” Dutch turned his head towards him.

“I... no. Fine.” Arthur huffed.

The alcohol had done it's magic, it helped him not care as he crossed the room with all the guests, nude as he was. His eyes only stopped him for a moment when they caught wind of one couple pleasuring each other in a corner. Interesting party.

Arthur went inside the small room from before and got dressed. At least he could get some fresh air. He ascended the stairs up to the entryway. Once outside the breeze felt nice against his bare chest. He had left his shirt unbuttoned, not worth the hassle, he thought.

John appeared to be asleep in the back of the coach. They'd been at the party for roughly two hours. Knowing John to be a heavy sleeper he was sure the man would be out for the rest of the evening. Everything around them was quiet. Like John, the few other coach drivers seemed to also be relaxing as they waited for their charge. Arthur figured he'd leave John to his peaceful slumber, no need to wake the younger outlaw and have to fill him in with the details.

After he allowed himself a few minutes of the cool, not so fresh, evening Saint Denis air, he was ready to return. Well not ready, more so reluctant to leave Dutch alone with a man he didn't trust. Arthur paused as soon as he entered the main hallway of the mansion. Arthur groaned, going outside hadn’t been the best idea, it seemed to have enhanced the effects of the alcohol tenfold.

He managed to take a few more steps towards the stairs. Before he descended, he found himself in need of another break. He leaned against the wall to steady himself, at first with only a hand, but soon his entire right side. Something was up, there was no way four glasses of even the strongest of alcohol would do this to his body.

Arthur's breath became labored as his body slid down against the wall. His legs were too light, the rest of him too heavy. Did Henry drug him? Shit. Dutch, he had to get to Dutch. No, John, the younger outlaw was closer. He crawled towards the main entrance, he'd warn John before he... before.  
Arthur's arms failed him next. He was still semi-aware of his surroundings when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. His whole body went numb. A line of drool flowed out of his mouth as the side of his face remained glued to the cold marble floor below.

Hands on each of his arms lifted him up. He tried to speak, shout even. But he had lost control over his tongue and vocal chords, managed nothing more but a pathetic whimper. His limp body was dragged into the changing room, he was powerless to stop them. Nausea struck him hard and fast as he was flipped and lifted so he could be undressed.

A man stood over him, spoke to him. It was hard to understand him, all tree of him. He was flipped back on his belly, they pulled his arms behind him. Shortly after he could feel a tightness around his wrists, then his upper arms as they were pulled together.

Shit.

Dutch, he tried to say the name, wasn't sure if he had. Again he was flipped over, if they did it one more time he was sure he'd empty his stomach on their feet. Now his legs were draw together, this was it. Drugged or not, they had him trussed up tightly.

"Comfortable dear boy?"

It was Henry, the no longer muted voice sent a chill up his spine. He feared the worst for Dutch, shouldn't have listened, shouldn't have left him alone. 

He was engulfed in darkness when something soft was pressed up against his eyes, they blindfolded him.

Arthur attempted to speak again, a protest, a threat, anything. But whatever just left his throat sounded so weak, it could hardly be classed as a sound at all. At least the blindfold no longer forced him to make sense of a room which spun around him. That small relief soon vanished as he was lifted up again. His brain couldn't cope with the rapid motion and slowly dragged him away from the realm of the conscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I promised filth, I delivered drabble. I just wanted to show Henry's motivations since I tagged the story with having *some* plot.  
> I pretty much face-planted my keyboard and this horrendous chapter came out. I'm sorry, I always try to reach further than I should.
> 
> Next chapter, I pinky promise!


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur groaned when he re-joined the land of the conscious. His mind was a cloudy mess and worked to gather itself, the darkness confused him until he remembered he had been blindfolded. At first he thought he was lying on his back, but his chin rested on his chest and soon enough he realized he stood upright with his back firmly pressed against something soft.

He tried to move but his arms and legs were held fast. During his struggles he felt various pressure points across body. Thick straps around his wrists and upper arms kept them stretched at an upwards angle to his sides. A thinner strap wrapped tightly around his neck ensured that his head was mostly immobile.

Further down his situation hadn't improved. When he arched his back in an attempt to free himself he became aware of a thick strap which snaked across his waist. Even lower down the same problem persisted for his thighs and ankles and kept his legs spread apart.

A wad of cloth had been stuffed in his mouth, held in place by a strap or belt so wide that it kept his mouth over as his teeth rested against it. The one familiar thing was the strong smell of leather, at least he knew exactly where he was.

So he was essentially blind, mute, spread out and naked. Completely vulnerable and exposed for whatever Fornsworth intended to do with him. 

Just peachy.

Dutch was his next priority, he had to find out what happened to his mentor. Arthur silently prayed that the man was simple out cold, drugged like he had been. Not hurt in any way, certainly not dead.  
No.

Henry was obviously crazy but not a killer. He couldn't be, he hoped he wasn't.

“Still comfortable?” Henry's voice pushed the previous silence away.

“Umpfh!” Dutch. He called out for Dutch, tried to at least.

“Your friend is fine. For now.”

Arthur could hear the smugness in the man's voice and it angered him. Leather made strapped squeaked under the strain of his efforts to free himself.

“Struggling only makes me want you more, dear boy.” Henry said.

A finger rested against the center of his collarbones, brushed against his skin as it slowly moved downwards.

“I wish you could see yourself, how beautiful you look while you're on display for me.” Henry happily sighed, “astonishing.”

The hand continued exactly towards where he feared it would, his groin area.

“Where to begin is the question. There is so much of you to explore.”

The finger traced around his most sensitive parts and was soon joined by more as they rubbed against his inner thigh. Another set of fingers gently cupped his balls, lifted them and rolled them around. He jerked forward, the motion mostly fine except for his neck which screamed in protest as the belt around it pinched his windpipe and caused him to let out a strangled grunt.

“Oh my. What a delicious noise, don't stop on my account.” Henry goaded.

A guttural growl rolled upwards from his throat, he wanted that blindfold off so he could stare daggers into the man's eyes. That sick, perverted bastard.

Henry's body pressed up against his own, a soft floral fragrance entered his nose and reminded him that he was at the mercy of a rich city dweller. He heard the man inhale his own scent as the bastards nose brushed along his cheek and neck.

“There is nothing better than the scent of a cornered predator, wouldn't you agree?”

“Mmmhpf.” A failed attempt to answer a rhetorical question. He tested the limits of his movements once more which elicited another positive response from his captor. Bastard really enjoyed himself the more he struggled.

“You may feel somewhat queasy. The drink you ingested contained a muscle relaxant. Should keep you fairly ease to handle for the next few hours. A very remarkable concoction I must say.”

That explained why he felt so weak. Hours. Arthur swallowed deeply. Hours of this, and then what? The law? Death?

The warmth of Henry's body disappeared. Arthur frowned when nothing else happened, no sounds, no unwelcome touches.

Nothing.

If he was able to move more than an inch he would have jumped when a hand suddenly gripped his shaft. Arthur pressed his body backwards, a futile attempt to escape the unwanted touch. The hand expertly moved up and down his shaft, a few firm strokes later and his body started to betray him. Once or twice his hips bucked forward when the hand massaged his shaft.

“Mmmhh.” He silently cursed himself when a small moan escaped. 

A thumb pressed hard against the head of his cock before the strokes sped up. In spite of his fear for Dutch and himself his body continued to respond until he was fully erect.

Arthur pulled and twisted, as hard as he could. Weakened muscles no match for the bindings which held him.

The stroking slowed, became more gentile. He hated that he couldn't see, couldn't predict the assault on his left nipple as two fingers pinched and pulled it. 

He gasped when a wetness touched his right shoulder, it was a tongue. Soon enough it moved across, towards his neck. A suckling sensation on his neck hit him in his most sensitive spot.

“Mmmhh.” Another semi-muffled moan, louder this time. How did Henry know his body so well. His shaft, his nipple, his neck. The perfect spots.

Arthur just realized that his nose no was no longer overwhelmed by a flowery scent. Pomade, familiar cigar smoke... It couldn't be.

“Umfph?” The back of a hand brushed against his temple, the feeling of cold metal unmistakable. A ring, two rings.

Dutch?

Arthur's brows pulled together. It couldn't be, but it was. The scent, the expert knowledge of all the soft spots on his body.

The blindfold was loosened, lowered down over his nose and left to rest on top of the strap which kept the wad of cloth trapped in his mouth.

Arthur blinked a few times, sure enough a familiar pair of dark brown eyes beamed back at him.

Son of a...

“Hm you figured it out sooner than I thought, suppose I shouldn't have gotten so close, but it's so hard to resist that beautiful neck.” Dutch gruffly said.

“Mmmpf?!” Arthur attempted to jerk his head way from Dutch's hand when it rested against his cheek. Confusion now replaced by anger and a feeling of betrayal. He saw Henry was sat down on the opposite end of the room, the man casually sipped his drink while he watched them with Samuel still naked and at his side. 

Arthur yelled all sorts of obscenities at Dutch, unfortunately they were reduced to nothing more than a series of incoherent muffled sounds, sounds which seemed to amuse Dutch.

Arthur glared at his mentor. Him and Henry had somehow planned this and Dutch agreed to or worse, ensured that he'd be drugged so he could be trussed up like a piece of meat.

“You see Henry, told you he'd be very unhappy.” Dutch never took his eyes off of him, even while he addressed Henry.

Henry chuckled as he rose to his feet, he stepped closer until he stood shoulder to shoulder with Dutch. “I usually find that redirecting the blood flow from up top to down below helps with that.” 

Henry's lopsided grin made Arthur want to punch the man until he could never grin again.

“Couldn't agree more.” Dutch continued, “That's always been his problem, as much as he enjoys being mine, he still thinks too much for himself. So very tiresome.”

“Worry not, he'll be more pliant after we're done with him.” Henry said.

“Mmmrrr!” Arthur growled as his muscles strained against the leather bindings. He mustered up the deadliest of glares and directed it at Henry.

A hand gripped his chin and forced his head to turn towards Dutch. 

“When someone gags you, it means you need to shut up, boy.” Dutch countered his deadly stare with one of his own.

“Perhaps we should elevate his apparent anger and confusion towards his current predicament?” Henry reached out towards his abs again. The man seemed overly fascinated by them as this wasn't the first time he used his hands to explore them.

“He'll be fine. He'll learn to accept what I give and thank me for it.” Dutch said. “No matter if he likes it or not.” Dutch leaned in closer and planted a kiss on Arthur's neck. “After all, he is mine to do with as I please.”

“Mmhhgg.” Arthur flinched when Dutch started to suckle and nibble on the area below his jawline.

“Surrender to me, my beautiful boy, I know you want to.” Dutch's right hand once more took possession of Arthur's shaft. 

Arthur closed his eyes when a rush of blood flowed down to his cock. Dutch's left hand gripped his jaw and squeezed to immobilize his further. A quiet moan made it's way past the gag as the older man used his teeth, no doubt to leave some marks behind.

“Like that huh?” Dutch murmured.

Arthur nodded his head, as little as he could. Common sense faded away rapidly as his lust slowly rose. He should be angry, should protest, but Dutch knew him so well, his body, his mind, everything.

He opened his eyes again when Dutch stepped back from him, as did Henry. Arthur's hips strained against their bindings, he wanted Dutch's hand to continue what it had been doing.

“Still so needy.” Dutch's index finger pushed Arthur's cock down, when he released it, it sprung back up and made the man smirk down at it.

Henry whispered something into Dutch's ear. Whatever he had said left a wide grin on his mentors face. 

“Come here boy, our new friend would like a demonstration of your tongue work.” Henry stepped back and motioned for Samuel to come over.

Arthur swallowed when the young man crawled over to him.

Samuel sat up on his knees, his luscious lips teasingly close to Arthur's upright cock.

“Go on pet, tongue only.” Henry's hand against the back of Samuel's head urged the boy to get to work.

“Mmmhhh!” Arthur's whole body responded when the warm tongue lapped at the head of his cock. The young man shuffled forward so he could comfortably reach the base of Arthur's shaft. Using the tip of his tongue he traced it along a protruding vein, all the way back to the tip of it.

This continued until pre-cum started to leak out, without hesitation the young man instantly lapped it all up as if it were his first meal of the day.

Arthur was helpless to do anything but stare down at him. He tried to buck his hips forward, desperate for Samuel to wrap his sweet mouth around his shaft and take him in. The young man's hair brushed against him when he leaned in to attack Arthur's cock from the side. He started again at the base of it but was pulled back by Dutch before he could continue. 

“That's enough.” Dutch said.

“Mmmmh.” A desperate but muffled moan came from Arthur when his cock ached for more.

“Do you want him to finish you off, boy?” Dutch asked him.

Arthur nodded, his nostrils widened every time he drew in a labored breath. Samuel still knelt in front of him, he wanted nothing more than to grab a fistful of the young man's hair and force him down on his cock.

“Beg for it.” Dutch said.

“Uhhmm.” It sort of sounded like please. For extra effect his eyes pleaded with Dutch.

His mentors response was to slap the head of his cock.

“Aaahhmmm!” Arthur cried out, his stomach churned from the flash of pain. His balls ached at the denied gratification when his erection faded away.

“You only beg for me to touch you, boy. No one else. Remember that.” Dutch snarled. Without further delay he spat in his hand, wrapped it around Arthur's shaft and started to massage it. Dutch's spit mixed with Samuel's as the older man's hand continued to slowly move up and down until Arthur was finally semi-hard again.

Henry moved Samuel out of the way per Dutch's request. Arthur could see that Samuel sported a hard on of his own and Henry definitely had a bulge in his pants.

“Eyes on me, boy,” Dutch warned. Arthur's cock twitched in his hand after he had spoken.

“Don't you wish you could just thrust forward into daddy's hand, hm?” Dutch teased. “But you can't, all you can do is stand there and accept what I give or deny you.”

“Mmhh.” Arthur moaned, he closed his eyes. Dutch was right, the feeling of powerlessness awakened a previously hidden desire.

“Shut up.” Dutch's free hand covered his mouth on top of the gag inside it. “Right now you exist for my pleasure. I don't care what you need, I'll only take from you what I need.” Dutch's hand gave his cock a light squeeze near it's tip, while his thumb pressed down on it.

Arthur's breathing sped up again. Dutch was using all the right words to harden him further. His balls ached even more than before. When he pleadingly moaned again Dutch's hand pressed down harder against his mouth.

“Keep begging, it won't do nothing.” Dutch whispered.

Arthur begged with his eyes instead of his mouth. Anything for Dutch to just stroke him just a minute longer so he could get the release he yearned for.

“To emphasize my point I'll keep that pretty little mouth of yours stuffed for the rest of the night. If not with a wad of cloth then it'll be with my cock or any other cock I allow to be in there.” Dutch gruffly said.

Arthur whimpered, the more Dutch threatened him, the worse the ache in his balls became. He'd do anything for Dutch to finish him off. This new experience quickly proved to be more than he could handle. How could his mentor know about his desires better than he had?

Dutch's hand scooped up some of Arthur's pre-cum and brought it closer to the younger outlaw's nose.

“That's what desperation smells like, boy. Take a good whiff of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know... I keep feeling I need to apologize for every chapter I add... xD 
> 
> Would love to hear some of your thoughts or suggestions.
> 
> Thanks for reading!! <3


	8. Chapter 8

“Perhaps I could tempt you with some dinner Mr. Van de-, Mr. Lockwood.” Henry corrected.

“Wonderful, but I'd hate to leave my boy here on his own.” Dutch replied as his fingers played around with one of Arthur's nipples.

“Oh we'll get him sorted. In fact, it would be the perfect opportunity to show you a most wonderful toy I so love using on my pet.” 

Arthur groaned when Dutch tweaked his nipple a bit too hard. He hated being so defenseless to stop his mentors onslaught. But not all of him hated it, which is the part that worried him.

Both Henry and Dutch stood side to side in front of him, his mind couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be taken by both of them at the same time. To surrender to such men of power.

Arthur's brows furrowed together when Henry first undid the belt on his waist only to replace it with another.

“Bring the rest over, pet.” Henry waited as Samuel retrieved a small pile of what looked like more black leather belts, the young man held on to all of it so Henry could pick out what he needed.

“What's all this then?” Dutch asked.

“Oh, did you not want him trussed up at all times?” Henry raised his brows at Dutch.

“I see.” His mentor smirked at him.

The look sparked a surge of defiance in Arthur, he growled at them, it was muffled but it's intent clear enough.

“Now now, keep it down boy.” Dutch's hand reached down for his cock and gave him a few firm strokes.

“Hmmmpf.” He moaned. Shit, he wanted to resist the build up down below. But Dutch's big, rough hand working his shaft was impossible to ignore.

“Hm, that's the noise I want to hear from you.” Dutch cooed. 

It took him a few seconds to realize that his right arm was no longer secured to the piece of furniture behind him. Instead Henry had quickly and expertly freed it, locked another belt around his wrist and secured it to his side. A short chain attached to a metal wring around the thick waist belt and rendered his right arm useless once more.

“Here you are good sir.” Henry held out a similar wrist cuff to Dutch, no doubt for his left arm.

Dutch used his left hand to keep Arthur's arm pinned against the leather padding it pressed against. The other hand undid the two straps around his arm. Arthur attempted to pull his arm away but either Dutch had grown much stronger or whatever Henry had sneaked into his drink had significantly weakened him.

He mumbled in protest as Dutch copied what Henry had done to his right arm.

“I'll gag you more harshly if I need to, Arthur.” Dutch warned.

Arthur stifled any further protests. His jaw already felt sore from the amount of cloth in his mouth. Any more would make his discomfort much worse.

Henry crouched down and proceeded to the same thing to his legs. First he undid all the bottom straps around one leg and secured a strap around his ankle, then his right. When that was done Henry removed the thigh strap from one leg and pulled it closer to the other so he could connect the cuffs around his ankles with a short chain. Only then was the last strap around his upper thigh removed.

The one thing which still pinned him was the thinner belt around his neck, the honor was left to Dutch who made a show of undoing it. The older man had leaned in closer than he needed and brushed his lips against the underside of Arthur's jawline.

When he was finally freed and pulled forwards a step by Dutch he found it alarmingly hard to stand on his shaky legs. If both Dutch and Henry weren't holding on to his arms he would have collapsed to his knees.

“Easy big boy, we got you.” Dutch assured.

“My apologies Mr. Lockwood. I simply couldn't resist testing my concoction on a man of his size. But I must say the dosage turned out splendid.”

“Well Henry, as I said, no more surprises like that. But your extra two hundred will do as an apology.”

Arthur couldn't believe his ears. Dutch hadn't known about the spiked drink but he seemed perfectly fine with it for a few extra dollars. That pissed him off, a lot. He tried to dig his heels in, but between the hobble chain and his weakened muscles he could offer very little resistance.

Both men effortlessly dragged him over to the waist high, four legged bench in the middle of the room. A hand against the back of his neck forced him to bend over against it, before he could react he left a thick leather belt wrap over his up back to keep him pinned down.

He growled as he tested his ability to move, or lack thereof.

“What has your temper up now, boy?” Dutch asked.

With his left cheek flat against the bench he could still look up and Dutch through his narrowed eyes. He tried to tell the older man to stop these games, that he was no longer in the mood. But all that came out was some incoherent mumbling.

“Oh shut up Arthur. I wouldn't allow this if I knew you truly hated it.” Dutch told him.

The older man had kept his hold on Arthur's neck and rubbed the back of it. Arthur, now determined to give him nothing kept as quiet as he could, no matter how good it felt.

Arthur frowned when one of the ankle straps was removed. He yelped when Henry kicked the side of his right leg and forced him in a wide spread. Both his legs were now secured to the diagonal legs of the bench. His rear end embarrassingly exposed for all to see.

“There we are. Quick and easy.” Henry mused as he patted Arthur on his butt cheek.

“You said you had something to show?”

“I do indeed!” Henry hurried over to a nearby dresser.

Arthur had to really crane his neck to see what went on behind him, but Dutch pressed down harder against it and held him down.

“Incredible, look at you.” Dutch's free hand rubbed across Arthur's shoulder blades.

Against his better judgment he allowed himself to get lost in Dutch's touches, the way his mentor massaged his back muscles was amazing, tied up or not.

“Hmm, you like that, don't you boy?” Dutch cooed.

“Mmhhm.” He nodded.

“Hmm my boy, such broad shoulders, so gorgeous.”

Arthur felt himself relax against Dutch's warm hands. Momentarily forgotten the awkward position he was in.

One of Dutch's hands carded through his hair and started to massage his scalp. He wasn't sure if the drugs were partially responsible or if Dutch was just this good. But the touches had relaxed to the point where he started to drift off.

“Remarkable how pliant you can make him. Truly a wrangler of beasts.” Henry said.

“Mmmblll.” He told Henry to shut up, or so he hoped, didn't want the man to ruin this moment. This is what he loved the most. To just exist and not have to worry about anything while Dutch worshiped his body and touched him in the gentlest way possible.

“What is that you're holding there, Henry?” Dutch asked.

“Ah yes, this is called a rectal dilator, quite the invention.” Henry replied.

“Care to explain?”

Arthur, curious as he was, tried to crane his neck, as before, Dutch kept him down with a firm hand against the back of his neck.

“Mmhrrr!” He growled, but Dutch shushed him.

He slightly flinched when a cold object was placed on his back.

“You simply smear some petroleum jelly on it and then insert it in one's anus. It's made out of rubber, the shape prevents it from falling out or being pushed out without assistance.”

“Interesting...”

“Hmmhm?!” He kept pushing against Dutch's hand, but from his position it was too easy for the man to keep him down. Taking Dutch's cock was one thing, but whatever Henry talked about, he was not prepared to take anything not Dutch up his ass.

“Oh my, I do absolutely love it when he strains his muscles.” Henry mused.

“It is quite the sight.” Dutch's free hand returned to explore his bare back.

Dutch's hand traced over his back, all the way down to his ass cheeks as the man walked around until he stood behind him.

“You said it stays in there... So if I... Then that would stay in there as well?” Dutch asked.

“Ooh, absolutely, yes.” Henry replied, the smile on his face was very audible.

“Hmmm?” Arthur frowned, he could finally crane his neck around and see behind him. The object in Henry's hand, which was apparently intended for his rear hole was as large as Dutch's cock, he shook his head at him and mumbled the word no a few times.

“Perfect.” Dutch stuck two of his fingers into the tin which sat on his back, at least now he knew what the cold object was.

Arthur's eyes darted between Dutch and Henry, his neck already protested at the awkward angle.

“Mmnnoo!” He couldn't believe his mentor was about to enter his ass in front of these strangers. Private was one thing, but to be humiliated like that in the presence was not a position he ever thought he'd be in.

“Hold on, you should clean him out first.” Henry said as Arthur could feel the tip of Dutch's fingers touch the outer edge of his rear passageway. 

Dutch's puzzled glance prompted Henry to continue.

“Trust me good man, the experience is more pleasant when they're cleaned out.”

“I assume you happen to have the right... tools for that?” Dutch asked.

“I most certainly do, fetch us the bowel cleansing kit, pet.” Henry ordered Samuel. “I assume yours has never had one?”

“No, but we're eager to learn.” Dutch used Arthur's back to wipe his fingers clean of the petroleum jelly on it.

“Mmmm?” He mumbled quizzically. Eager to learn?! He wasn't, not at all. Not knowing what was coming made him nervous as hell. But Dutch wouldn't allow anything which would hurt him. Except for the drugs, and his aching balls. Maybe he was wrong about Dutch...

“I'll need him to hold still.” Henry said.

Almost immediately Arthur felt a hand push down against his shoulder-blades. At the same time, the wide belt which kept his arms pinned to his sides and his upper body to the bench, loosened. A muffled grunt lingered in his mouth when it was tightened again, enough to crush his arms against his sides.

“Which reminds me. I have a gift for you, well, both of you.” Henry sounded excited.

Whatever it was he showed Dutch, had clearly made the man very happy. Arthur had to crane his neck again, but only for a moment as Dutch soon stood at his side so he could look up at him. In his hands he held what seemed to be another leather belt. Thicker and wider than any others he had seen with an O-ring attached to the front of it. It was too long to be for his wrists or ankles, too short for anything else. When Henry handed him what appeared to be a leash, Arthur instantly understood what he looked at.

“Mhh mhh.” Arthur shook his head, he wasn't an animal. _'Is that so pup?'_ , he could practically hear John say.

Shit.

He had to close his eyes, could already feel a rush of blood heading down to his cock at the mere thought of Dutch collaring him. The twitching worsened when he thought about how John would react to it.

“Well well, someone seems eager for this.” Dutch grinned down at him.

He felt the collar being snaked under his neck and draped over the back of it. Pre-cum leaked from his aching cock when Dutch pulled it a notch tighter. He felt a finger against his neck, no doubt Dutch checking if it wasn't strangling him. If it had been, he probably would have exploded in pure bliss.

“I don't know how you sometimes manage to look more beautiful than you already are.” Dutch murmured.

Henry worked around Dutch, attached the leash to the O ring on his collar and crouched down. He felt a sharp tug, it was now being pulled under his cheek and forced his chin upwards a bit. When Henry rose to his feet the tension hadn't eased of. The man must have fastened it to something underneath him. He tested his new restriction and found he could no longer lift his head and see behind him.

A loud moan was held back by the cloth in his mouth when Dutch grabbed hold of his leaking shaft.

“Hm, seems like you're close. You want to empty a load, don't you boy?”

“Hmm hmm.” He tried to nod, even that became harder to do.

“Do you deserve it?” Dutch's hand moved up and down his shaft, but only once.

“Hmm hmm.” He repeated. It didn't matter what Dutch asked, he'd agree to almost anything at this point. He felt another firm stroke, just a few more, he thought as he attempted to grind his hips against Dutch's hand. Please just a few more.

Arthur sobbed loudly when Henry interrupted them. Samuel had returned and prompted Henry to explain the process of _cleansing_ his insides. Happy to learn, Dutch followed the man's instructions. Arthur would have jumped if he could when a slick finger pushed past his sphincter.  
The finger curled and pressed in further as he tugged and pulled against his restraints. Dutch and himself had only done this a few times, it had been humiliating to him then, it was ten times worse now, in front of all these men, trussed up as he was.

“Mmmm!” He attempted to protest against the invasion.

“That should do, the next part will be somewhat uncomfortable, with it being his first time.” Henry told Dutch. 

Anxious about what Henry had said he still felt relieved when he was empty again. The relief however, was very short lived when something cold and slimy replaced Dutch's finger. Arthur squealed as soon as a bulbous mass followed the nozzle inside of his ass.

“Mmmhh?!” He was helpless to stop any of it. His mind a mixture of emotions. Anger and fear were certainly things he felt. The anger was directed at Dutch for putting him in this situation. The fear because he had no idea of what to expect. But there was also something deeper, a sense of excitement almost. Maybe that was because he was just too desperate for release. Or maybe there was something very wrong with him for feeling attracted to the idea of being helpless, unable to stop Dutch from using him in any way the older man wanted.

While he was lost in thought and attempted to understand this new side of himself, Henry had been busy explaining what exactly the mixture of warm water and soap would do. Before the man had finished his sentence, Arthur heard some sloshing, his eyes widened as soon as his bowels started to fill up with water. Soon enough his stomach had the same sensation of being full.

“Mmhh!!!” He unleashed a series of curses, pointless as it was against the gag. His face flushed with anger.

“Get used to taking it, boy.” Dutch told him, the older man's hand pressed down between Arthur's shoulder blades to keep him still.

Arthur heard a squeal of air, either Henry or Dutch, Henry he assumed, fiddled with the tube for a few seconds. The man then moved away from behind him, the bulbous mass remained in his ass and kept the liquid sealed inside of him.

“We'll let that sit for a few minutes before we empty you.” Henry said with the most casual tone possible.

He still heard some noises behind him and assumed it must be Samuel as he gathered whatever items were not in his ass. Arthur stretched his fingers in what was a futile attempt to reach behind him and remove the object which ensured he remained filled to the brim. Unfortunately his arms were held firmly to his sides. Even if not, the strap around his upper arms kept him properly bent over at the waist.

A few minutes of silence and Dutch using his tongue to play with his earlobes, were stopped by Henry informing them that it was time for Arthur to empty his bowels. He knew Samuel now held a bucket at the ready and listened as Henry instructed Dutch to carefully remove the plug and it's attaching nozzle. Arthur had to close his eyes, he was certain this was the most embarrassing moment of his entire life as he was emptied. Completely emptied.

“There we are, now he's ready for pleasure.” Henry instructed Samuel to clean and remove everything.

He protested again when a finger, soon followed by a second one, entered his ass once more. The repeated violations of his most private area in a crowded room, had left him completely flaccid.

“Interesting, so you do this with your... pet, every day?” Dutch asked while his fingers scissored around inside of Arthur.

“Only when I plan to take him there. Or before I leave something else in there as reminder.” Henry replied.

“This, rectal dilator, would it keep anything sealed in there?” The smirk on Dutch's face was audible to all.

Henry's reply, if the man had given one, wasn't audible to Arthur. What was audible, was the slopping noise of Dutch's hand as he stroked himself with a very slick sounding hand.

“Daddy is going to fill you up, and you're going to keep my seed inside of you until I decide that it no longer has to.” Dutch huffed as he lubed himself up.

Fuck.

That was good, so damned good when Dutch talked to him like that, his cock hardened in agreement. 

Thankfully, like last time, Dutch was very careful when he pushed his shaft forward. His mentor slowly eased himself inside of him. One hand reached forward and held on to Arthur's shoulder. The other grabbed hold of his cock, which had hardened when Dutch spoke to him and pushed inside.

“Mmph...mmhhnn...” Arthur grunted with each pump, his hole stretched when Dutch pushed in deeper with each subsequent thrust. Whenever the older man hit that sweet spot inside of him, he squealed. Arthur felt more hands on him, hands which slowly traced over his arm muscles as he flexed and strained against the leather belts which held him down. Henry, he thought with what little brainpower he had left.

“You beautiful beast, reduced to nothing but a plaything.” Henry whispered in his ear.

Arthur moaned at his words, like with Dutch, being talked to in such a manner sent ripples of pleasure throughout his body.

“My beast.” Dutch growled as he sped up his thrusts. “Ain't that right, boy?”

“Mmhhpff.” Arthur managed a slight nod, lust overwhelmed him when Dutch stroked his cock in tandem with his thrusts. Henry had now slipped a hand underneath him and fiddled with his right nipple. It was a complete sensory overload, Dutch in his ass and on his shaft. Henry's muscle worship and soft tweaking of his nipples. The way they both talked as if they owned him, the restriction of his bindings, the tightness of the collar, the fullness in his ass and mouth.

Holy fucking shit.

Arthur's roar was barely muffled by the gag as he exploded in what was the most powerful orgasm he had every experienced. Wave after wave crashed over him as Dutch continued to milk him dry. 

His hearth pounded in his chest while his nostrils widened with every breath he took. He was covered in sweat and would have collapsed from exhaustion had his upper body not been resting on top of the leather padding.

A muffled moan was absorbed by the gag. The hand on his shoulder tightened it's grip while Dutch grunted behind him and filled him up. Henry's fingers were no longer all over him when his mentor leaned heavily on top of him. Like before, his emptiness barely registered when Dutch pulled out and replaced his cock with the thing that Henry had showed the man. True to his promise, Dutch had indeed sealed his seed inside of Arthur's ass. 

Arthur's cock stirred again, he no longer cared that it wasn't just Dutch and himself. Henry was similar to Dutch, almost equally as capable at appealing to his desires with mere words. 

Arthur lazily opened his eyes when he felt the vast array of straps being loosened. He was free again, mostly. The collar, it's leash and the strap around his waist which kept his wrists pinned to his sides, remained. The two men pulled him off the contraption and made him kneel on the floor.

“I still have another promise to fulfill.” Dutch smirked down at him.

Arthur had to tilt his head backwards to look up at him, this caused the wide collar to tighten against his neck and assisted his shaft with already being halfway back to fully erect.

“I told you earlier, I'd keep that mouth of yours filled.” Dutch reached behind his protege and undid the strap which kept the wad of cloth trapped inside of his mouth.

Arthur worked his jaw when it was liberated from the excessive amount of material which had been packed inside of it.

“I'd offer you a drink, but you're about to get enough of that.” Dutch presented his hardening member to Arthur's mouth. “Clean me up, boy.”

Arthur shifted forwards on his knees, this is what he loved the most. To worship and taste Dutch's thick member. His jaw ached something fierce, but still he forced it to open wide enough to take half of it inside of his mouth. Arthur's lips formed a perfect seal, he pulled back until only the tip of Dutch's cock rested on top of his tongue.

“Deeper boy, or I'll make you.” Dutch threatened. His mentor emphasized the threat when he grabbed a fistful or Arthur's hair.

Arthur pushed his head forward again, his efforts much harder without the use of his hands. A little over the halfway point he struggled to get it in further. His gag reflex already started to trigger. The hand in his hair stopped him, held him still at the point before it would be too much for him.

“Look at you, my seed filling your ass, my cock filling your mouth. You're my toy Arthur.” Dutch forced Arthur's head closer to him, but only by an inch.

“Hmm” He mumbled in agreement, his gag reflex triggered again, a choked noise sounded more strangled than it normally would, a result of the tight collar around his neck.

“You like that? You want to be daddy's toy?” Again Dutch used the grip he had on Arthur's hair to pull the younger outlaw closer by an inch.

“Hmm hmm.” Arthur had to close his eyes, had to concentrate on breathing through his nose while his throat adjusted to Dutch's size.

“Then let's put this hole to good use.” Dutch thrust himself forward until Arthur's face was buried inside of his crotch.

As expected, Dutch took over control and Arthur was left to focus on breathing through his nose between his attempts to not choke on Dutch's cock, which was harder than he had expected with a tight collar around his neck.

Dutch used his mouth, hard and fast, every thrust as deep as the previous. His mentors free hand grabbed the leash and pulled it taut while his cock pushed against the back of Arthur's throat. The older man came with a deep growl. Arthur was grateful for not having to struggle with swallowing as much as he normally would since Dutch had already filled him up previously. Still filled him up actually. 

“Unnhhmgg.” Arthur groaned as he saw stars, his air supply was cut off, heart pounded in his head while Dutch kept his face buried against the man's crotch. His own cock had already gotten to the point where it leaked again.

“So damned good.” Dutch murmured, he held Arthur in place for a bit longer than he normally would. Until the younger outlaw mumbled some protests and shifted on his knees.

A long strand of Dutch's cum kept them connected when the older man pulled out of his mouth. Without having to be told, he leaned forward and slurped it all up, his tongue he used to clean up the tip of Dutch's shaft.

“Very good.” Dutch praised him, stroked Arthur's cheek with the back of his fingers.

Arthur was spent, but he couldn't ignore how full his ass still felt. His head was lifted when Dutch used an index finger to push his chin up, again the collar tightened against his neck. His hazy blue eyes connected with Dutch's, who smiled down at him.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” Dutch raised his brows.

“T-thank you.” He said with a hoarse voice.

Dutch's brow shot up even further.

“Thank you... daddy.” He mumbled the last word. His cheeks reddened, being very aware again that they weren't alone in the room. To his surprise, Dutch seemed to accept the barely audible word.

Arthur cleared his throat and licked his lips. “I'd like some wa-” Dutch's hand clamped his mouth shut.

“Quiet boy, that mouth still has work to do. After all, you haven't thanked our host.” Dutch nodded at Henry and motioned the man over.

Dutch then disappeared and was replaced by Henry. The man seemed more than eager to get going, his cock already out of his pants and pointing up towards the ceiling. He wasn't as large as Dutch, but still seemed to be a challenge for his throat.

“Keep that mouth closed until I say otherwise.” Henry held on to his leaking shaft and smeared it around Arthur's mouth. When the young outlaw tried to pull away, a hand in his hair stopped him. Maybe Henry was a bit more extreme than Dutch.

“Look at you. No doubt you'd be able to beat me to death without breaking a sweat.” Henry started.

“Yet here you are, with my ejaculate all over your face, kneeling at my feet.” The more Henry talked, the more the man leaked pre-cum.

“I do hope to one day get a chance to make you beg.” Henry said with a more ominous tone in his voice. “Open up for me, dear boy.”

Arthur did as told with a frown on his face, there was something in Henry's eyes which he didn't like. The man thrust as deep as he could into Arthur's mouth, but only a few times before he pulled out again.

“Keep that mouth open.” Henry ordered him as he gave himself a few firm strokes.

Arthur had to close his eyes when Henry started to squirt into his mouth and onto his face. If it was Dutch, it surely would have done something to him. But Henry was being strange, more longing than he expected the man to be. Not trustworthy, that's for sure.

He spat out the bits that had gotten into his mouth while the rest dripped down his face. Something he would have never dared to do with Dutch. But even if Henry disliked it, there would be nothing the man could do about it unless he wanted his neck snapped by Dutch.

“Wonderful.” Henry said as he used a cloth to clean himself up, the man forced his cum soaked cloth into Arthur's still open mouth and told him to hold it there or he'd ensure it stayed in there. 

“Mrrrgh.” He grumbled. Dutch seemed fine with that. Arthur not so much.

“I think it best if we plan to dine together another time, I'm sure your pet is exhausted from all these new experiences. And it's later than expected.” Henry eyed his pocket watch.

“I agree, shall we make plans for another get together?” Dutch accepted the cigar which Samuel offered him, the boy even lit it for the man.

Arthur subtly shook his head at Dutch, but his mentor seemed to ignore him.

He was left to kneel where he was as the men sat down and discussed some details of their next meeting. A brief conversation later, they finally agreed upon a date and time. Henry also informed Dutch that both the collar and rectal whatever in his ass, were gifts for them to keep.

The first thing Arthur did when they freed him from his restraints was to spit out the cum drenched cloth. Next he flexed his arms before he dared to stand. It seemed that his muscles were back to a point where he'd no longer fall over if he attempted to stand. Dutch being Dutch, used the leash to lead him out of the room, past the other guests and back into the changing room which held his clothes.

“What about the-” An index finger against his lips cut him off.

“It stays. You're going to ride home with my seed in your ass.” Dutch grinned at him, the grin turned into a scowl when Arthur wanted to protest.

He snapped his mouth shut. Pointed at the collar instead, but Dutch shook his head at him.

“But John...” He whined.

“It's dark, you worry too much. You can take it off after the coach ride, when we reach the horses.” Dutch loosened a few more buttons on Arthur's shirt and parted both sides to keep the collar very exposed.

"We still need to discuss you being okay with me being drugged." Arthur waved Dutch's hands away.

"You had a good time didn't you?" Dutch was clearly talking around the issue.

"Yes... but-"

"Then it's time to go home." Dutch unclipped the leash from the collar and pocketed it.

Arthur remained silent for now. But he was determined to bring it up again later, that included Dutch's plans to come back here. 

When they arrived at the coach, Dutch knocked on the door, loud enough to wake the sleeping man inside.

As he feared, the darkness wasn't enough to conceal the new accessory around his neck. When John jumped out of the coach, he stopped for a second too long. Dutch was already on his way to sit down inside, but John... John had an unmistakable sparkle in his eyes before he clambered up the front of it.

Arthur cleared his throat and followed Dutch inside. Having forgotten about what was inside of his ass he sat down and yelped as soon as the object inside pushed in deeper. He could tell from the smirk on the older man's face that he knew exactly what had happened.

Bastard.

The ride back to where they had hitched their horses was a very unpleasant experience. Every bump in the road, which were many, made it press against that special spot inside of him. Soon enough he sweated in his clothes and had to hold on to the edge of the wooden bench he sat on.

“Problem, Arthur?” Dutch asked with no small amount of snark in his voice.

“Fuck you.” Arthur snarled under his breath.

“I believe you're the one who's being _fucked_ , right now." Dutch placed the cigar between his teeth and smiled from ear to ear.

Yes he was, and damn did it feel good. But this was just a stagecoach, if Dutch was going to make him sit in his saddle like this...

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep feeling the urge to apologize for this story. I'm sorry >.<


	9. Chapter 9

Arthur groaned when he flung his leg over his saddle and hopped off. It had been two days since his _adventure_ at Henry's party. Two days since his ass had been stretched to a new limit. It was still somewhat uncomfortable to sit in a saddle or on top of any other hard surface.

“Good a place as any to give the horses a breather.” John's head turned from left to right as he scanned the area.

“Hm.” Arthur hitched his black Arabian next to John's horse. He picked a secluded area for their short break. It was thickly forested, with trees growing all the way up against the pond they stood at. Secluded and far away from the beaten path, just the way he liked it.

“How much did we get?” John bent over to fill his canteen.

“Six-fifty. Good take for not firing a single bullet.” Arthur's eyes looked up from the money in his hands. The temptation to give John a good shove and see him clamber out of the water with a deathly fear in his eyes was almost too good to pass on.

“Don't even think about it.” John straightened up, hadn't even faced Arthur.

“When did you become so clairvoyant?” Arthur queried.

“Clair what?” John turned to face him with his brows raised.

Arthur rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Never mind, forgot who I was talking to.”

“Me not listening to Dutch 'n Hosea's fancy words don't make me stupid.” John attached the canteen to his horses tack.

“True, being stupid makes you stupid.” Arthur chuckled.

John unbuckled the bedroll from his horse, turned and threw it at Arthur who dodged it effortlessly.

Arthur turned around when both men heard a loud splash.

"Son of a..." John unleashed a flurry of curses at the sight of his bedroll which floated at the edge of the pond. He rushed to retrieve it while Arthur let out a hearty laugh behind him.

“That certainly proves my point.” Arthur couldn't stop smiling.

After he fished it out of the pond, John worked hard to wrung out his bedroll as best as he could. Meanwhile Arthur busied himself with setting up a quick fire, skin the two rabbits they shot earlier and prepare them.

John flung the bedroll over a branch near the fire. He then sat down, crossed his legs and leaned back against the tree.

“I ain't your cook Johnny, prep your own rabbit.”

John huffed at him but shifted forward to get started on his own meal. The pair of them relaxed, even napped for the hour that it took for their food to be ready.

When Arthur lifted his hat and opened his eyes, John had busied himself with cutting up their food into smaller pieces on top of a plate. He found it strangely assertive and unnecessary. The young outlaw had also retrieved a small, fold-able stool from his horses tack.

“Bored?” Arthur stretched his arms behind himself.

John ignored him.

“Don't tell me you're being moody from earlier?” Arthur teased.

“Making it easier to feed ya.” John hadn't looked up, nor was there any visible change in his expression.

“F- ...what?” Arthur's mouth remained agape.

“Hat off and get on all fours pup.”

Arthur's mouth opened and closed a few times, ready to object. To tell John that this wasn't the place or time, that being fed was not his thing. But there was a massive rush of blood towards his lower body which heavily disagreed with his thoughts.

“Being disobedient?” John paused cutting the meat up, his eyes the only part of him which moved to look over at Arthur.

Arthur swallowed deeply at the sight of John's lips in a straight line. The younger man's eyes were narrowed ever so slightly. John's demeanor now screamed that he was in charge of the moment, so damned hot.

Shit.

When Arthur took his hat off it felt as if he wasn't in control of his own muscles. The same could be said for when he balled his hands into fists, sat down on his knees and positioned himself on all fours.

“Come here.” John's attention was back on the plate in his lap, he pushed the meat around with the knife in his hand.

Every part of Arthur screamed 'no' at this, it was humiliating. Don't do it, it's John. A very hot and stern John. Another rush of blood went downwards, now he had an erection.

Double shit.

He set one hand down in front of the other. Arthur slowly crawled over towards John, who held out his right hand with a few pieces of cooked rabbit on it.

“John, I ain't too sure about this.” He stopped, remained seated on his knees but lifted his hands away from the ground.

John's hand hovered above the plate, he tilted it, caused the food to fall back on the plate before he set it down on the ground. 

Arthur furrowed his brows, his eyes remained locked on the younger outlaw. John had gotten up and retrieved something from his saddlebag, kept it hidden on his way back over.

“This should help you know your place.” John held his hands out to Arthur with a grin on his face.

When he recognized the studded leather belt and attached leash in John's hands, his jaw dropped.

“Is that... did you?” Arthur wasn't sure if he should get angry or praise John for what was probably the stupidest thing he'd ever done.

“Sneaked into Dutch's room this morning.” John proudly said.

“You fool. He's going to notice and kill me. Or you, or both of us. You don't _steal_ from Dutch.”

“Calm down, he ain't gonna notice.” John moved around a kneeling Arthur and stood behind him.

“John we need to go back now and hope he ain't checked his drawer.” Stand up you fool, a voice in his head screamed. No, stay, he's going to do it and it's going to feel amazing.

“That's enough. I'll deal with this, you deal with getting back into your role.” John fastened the collar around Arthur's neck. Not too tight.

“We shouldn't play with Dutch's-” 

The collar tightened by a single notch.

Arthur's sentence was cut off by a strangled noise.

“John I-”

Another notch.

The collar now tightly hugged his neck. To the point where he had to focus on breathing.

“You done pup?” John kept his hand on it's buckle.

“Y-yes.” He croaked.

“Yes who?” 

“Y-yes sir.” Arthur managed to say, he couldn't stop the throaty moan, or the twitch in his cock. 

The belt loosened enough for him to be able to speak and swallow unhindered. Arthur shifted on his knees. He watched as John walked past him, leash in hand until he sat back down on the folding stool.

“Back on all fours.” John bent over to retrieve the plate of food.

Arthur groaned inwardly, normalcy, that was what he wished for. To be like everyone else, not some sick minded something. This shouldn't be affecting his cock, but it was, oh fuck was it ever. Like before he balled his hands back into fists and placed them on the ground. Even the fear of discovery by Dutch hadn't eased his erection off. Yet another not normal thing for him to worry about.

Well shit.

“I want your attention on me.” John pointed at his own eyes with his index and and middle finger.

He licked his lips, not as a sign of lust or desire, but because they were so damned dry. Everything was dry, except for the part of him which he wanted dry. That part felt like it was about to leave an embarrassing stain on his pants.

“Eat.” John held his hand out with two thumb sized pieces of meat in it.

When Arthur's hand reached out to take a piece, John immediately closed his own.

“That ain't how no pup of mine will eat.” John pulled on the leash, until Arthur was close enough to reach the food with his mouth. Which is when John opened his hand again.

Arthur swallowed, closed his eyes. First Dutch, now John, how did the pair of them seem to always find the most humiliating thing for him to do? And why did he love it so much? Maybe it's just a passing fancy. Yes, that's what it had to be, and he could prove it by not showing a physical reaction to anything that was to come. He lowered his head, used his teeth to snatch a piece of the meat and swallowed it as a whole.

That was easy.

He frowned when John pulled his hand away after he leaned in for the second piece.

“You're using that head too much.” John said.

Arthur's frown deepened.

“Puppy's don't think for themselves, they listen and do as told.” The younger man continued. “Gonna have to give you some serious training, don't I?”

“T-training?” He stammered.

A twitch between his legs. Fuck, no, don't react.

“The moment I call you pup, you gonna turn that head of yours off.” John lifted his hand until it hovered close to Arthur's mouth and waited for the man to grab the second piece.

“Chew it.” John ordered.

Arthur chewed, albeit slowly. He found it hard to concentrate on John's stern voice while he struggled to imagine some other things. Things to stop his cock from responding.

“Good boy.”

Another small moan appeared in his throat. Fuck, fuck, shit fuck. Not the praise, anything but the praise.

“When you're my pup, you'll focus on making me happy. Nothing else will matter to you.” John picked out a bigger piece, held it between his thumb and index finger as he brought it closer to Arthur's mouth.

He struggled to swallow what was in his mouth. The more his heart raced, the faster the blood was being pumped down towards the last place he wanted it. Arthur carefully bit into the piece which John held out, not wanting to touch the man's fingers with his teeth. Just like a good puppy would do.

Stop. Don't praise yourself you fool, you'll make it worse.

“You won't be thinking about Dutch, or anything else. Only me, your owner.” John stuffed his own mouth with a few bits of the food. After that, he placed a few of the pieces on top of his knee. John then pointed at them while he stared at Arthur.

He had to shift a bit closer to reach them, further encouraged by another tug on the leash. Arthur wanted to get this over with as quick as possible, still determined to prove that he wasn't into this sort of thing. By the time he gulped down a second piece, John had carded a hand through his hair, the man's fingers now gently rubbed the back of his head while he ate.

He moaned at that.

It's sound was filled with need. Simultaneously, his hips bucked forward, an undesired and uncontrolled response. So much for proving this wasn't his thing.

“See pup? Just shove them daily troubles aside, let me take care of you. Train you to be a good boy.” 

Arthur's chewing had slowed down tremendously. He kept wondering when John had become so smart, so good at saying exactly the right things to him?

“Think you can do that?” John's fingers reached the back of Arthur's ear and softly scratched him there.

Arthur closed his eyes, titled his head backwards and leaned in to the touch. No, just say no. Don't give in to this, show him that there ain't nothing wrong with your head. That you won't allow someone younger and smaller to control you.

“No answer? Still thinking too much. That'll be the first thing we work on.” John halted his gentle caressing and tightened Arthur's collar by a single notch. He then forced his index finger in between it and Arthur's neck to test it's tightness. It fit, barely.

“Sit up on your knees.” John gathered the remaining pieces of meat on his knee and stuffed them into his own mouth.

With more thoughts of how he'd be the laughing stock of the camp, if they ever found out he did as little Johnny commanded, Arthur reluctantly complied. He straightened his back, his hands now rested on his thighs.

“Still hungry?” John still had over half a plate of food in his hand.

Get up, snatch the plate from his hand and eat it. There's nothing he can do to stop you, you wouldn't even break a sweat holding him off. Stop playing this sick game. Frustrated at his own mixture of emotions, he turned his head away.

“Hey. Enough of that.” John cupped Arthur's chin in his hand, turned the man's head to face him.

“I... we shouldn't be doing this. Dutch will-” The rest of Arthur's sentence was lost when John's hand covered his mouth.

“What did I just say?! I'll worry about that, you worry about being a good boy. That clear?”

Against his better judgment, Arthur nodded.

“At this rate I'm gonna have to come up with a way to punish you.” John set the plate of food down on the ground in front of him.

Arthur swallowed, the thought of being punished for misbehavior, rewarded for the opposite, by John of all people. Shit, that got another response from in between his legs.

“Eat up. No stopping, I want it all gone, fast. That way you won't have time to be thinking about nothing else.”

Again, the voice in his head screamed no. And again his body moved as if he weren't in charge of it. He bent over, ass up high so he could reach the plate with his mouth and hurriedly empty it's contents.

“That's it, a big pup like you needs all the energy.” John encouraged him.

Arthur made a noise which hinted at agreement.

Preferably, he'd eat even faster than he had been. Unfortunately the collar was a notch too tight, swallowing larger amounts at once was quite the struggle. Arthur shook his head, his chewing slowed. He silently cursed himself for being too eager to comply, that made it so much harder to deny that he really enjoyed this.

“You're doing it again.” John got up and walked behind Arthur's very exposed ass. He lifted his foot, used it press against Arthur's groin area. “Gonna have to move some of that blood flow.”

Arthur almost choked after the unexpected contact. Damn it, he was doing fine too, the physical signs of his enjoyment had gone after his ever increasing concern over Dutch's reaction.

He hissed when John did it again, only this time the boot started to rub against it. Greedy for more, he lowered his waist and leaned into the touch.

“Shit... John don't.” He lifted his ass as fast as he had previously lowered it. But the boot followed his movements.

“You're supposed to be chewing, not talking.” John planted his foot back down on the ground, he then leaned over and tightened Arthur's collar by another notch. A quick test with his finger showed that he could get it to about halfway in between the two inch wide collar and Arthur's neck.

“That'll remind you how to address me.”

Arthur let out a small, strangled cough. Less than a quarter of food left, his throat now worked even harder to swallow the last bits.

“You full now?” John asked.

“Yes.” Arthur cleared his throat. “Yes sir.” He quickly added.

“That's the pup I want to hear.” John loosened the collar. “Sit up.”

John's words of praise brought that buildup of excitement back. Praise, he wondered if that's what he was after? Dutch praised him, but it felt different. With Dutch it seemed more like a means to an end, a way for his mentor to get him to do more things he didn't want to do. With John the reward felt more equal and soothing.

Equal... You're kneeling in front of the man who holds the leash to the collar around your neck. Ain't nothing equal about that. Soothing then, that was the difference. It felt like he had done something to make John happy. But Dutch was intimate, truly appreciative of his body, for some odd reason. With John there was none of that. Arthur frowned at his thoughts.

"Empty that head of yours." John's fingers started on each side of Arthur's jaw and slowly traced up until they reached the back of his ears, which they slowly scratched.

"C-can't." Arthur closed his eyes, how did John know to do this?

"You can. It'll make me and you happy." John spoke softly.

"Hmmm, happy." Arthur murmured. John's touches started to relax him.

"That's right pup, I'm going to make you happy." John cooed.

"But you ain't happy..." Arthur had noticed earlier that there wasn't even a hint of John's cock responding to any of this.

"Let me worry about that. Like you, I'm still trying to figure out what about this be enjoyable for me." John took the leash in his hand.

Arthur was the first to react and got to his feet at the sound of rustling bushes. Behind him, John took a few steps forward, one hand rested on the grip of his revolver. The two men who emerged each held on to a fishing rod of their own. One short and slim, the other significantly taller and bulky.

“Well well, lookie what's we got here, Ed. Bunch of inverted degenerates.” The shortest of the two said.

“Damned right, Earl” Ed spat on the ground. “Degenerates alright.” 

“Look mister, we ain't looking for no trouble, you go about your business and we'll be on our way.” Arthur held his hands out and side glanced at John, who to his surprise, still held on to the leash.

“This here be our pond. You _ladies_ best scram before Earl 'n me show ya what real men can do.” Ed poked his friend with his elbow, who confirmed his threat with a nod.

Arthur clenched his fists. He was so sick of all the intolerant folk. Why was it so hard for everyone to just mind their own damned business?

“Don't see your names anywhere.” John's head moved around nonchalantly.

“John?” Arthur mumbled under his breath. Picking a fight was very unusual for a sober John.

“I'll give you two yokels a choice. Walk away now or limp away later.” John snarled at them.

Arthur turned his head towards John, mouth agape. The man was seriously going to start an avoidable fight.

Ed, the smaller one, laughed. “Think your scars make you a tough feller?”

“I'm gonna drown your inverted face and use bits of ya as bait.” Earl cracked his knuckles and stepped forward.

Arthur's head snapped towards the big bastard and bared his teeth. Provoking a fight is one thing, threatening to kill someone he cared about, that was a death sentence.

“That was a mistake. Get 'em boy.” John unclipped the leash with a wide grin on his face.

John's demeanor puzzled him, but there was no time for that. The big guy came at him, fast but predictable. It was easy to avoid Earl's fist. Arthur ducked under it and stepped to the side, he then kicked Earl's lower leg. It threw off the man's balance, gave Arthur an opening to slam his fist against Earl's jaw. It caused the man to stagger sideways and trip over his own feet. As Arthur excepted, Earl's friend was a second away from helping the now downed man. 

“You fucking degenerate!” Ed yelled as he swung and aimed for Arthur's face.

All he had to do was lean backwards to avoid the man's poorly aimed blow. To counter the swing from Ed's other hand, Arthur held up his arm, stopped it from connecting with his face. It was his turn now, the first swing hit Ed in his side, the second the underside of the man's jaw. With Ed briefly stunned, he grabbed a fistful of his hair, brought his head down and kneed him in the face.

Arthur was about to gloat when an arm snaked around his neck and held him in a tight choke hold. His eyes darted around, searched for John as he expected him to help. 

“Gotcha now you fucker.” Earl sneered. “Lay it on him, Ed!”

Arthur twisted and pulled in an attempt to free himself, but the man as big as himself had a firm grip on his neck. During his attempts to break the choke hold, they had turned enough for John to finally be in his vision. Marston just stood there, casually leaned against a tree with his arms crossed and that same grin from earlier on his face.

That little shit.

By now, Ed had clambered to his feet and drove his fist into Arthur's stomach, which knocked the wind out of him. The next blow connected with the edge of his jaw, and another a little higher up against his cheek.

Arthur roared, the pain and John's brat attitude combined with these intolerant yokels sent him in a rage. The man in font of him was about to lash out again, it presented him with the opportunity for a well aimed kick in his guts.

Ed staggered backwards, without delay Arthur started to pound his elbow into his rear attackers' side. Over and over until the man was forced to let go of him. Arthur spun around, swung his fist at Earl's face, a left handed swing, followed by another and finally a right hook to finish the job. As Earl collapsed to the ground, he turned to face Ed again and gave him the same three swing treatment. Only this time he finished it off with a painful kick to the man's face. This ensured he'd be down and out for at least a few minutes.

“Inbred trash.” He spat as his head switched between the unconscious pair. For good measure, and because he still boiled with rage, he picked up each of the their fishing rods and snapped them in half on his knees.

Clap. Clap. Clap. The sound made him turn around. Immediately he stomped towards John with his fists still balled up.

“I swear you're next.” His breath was still labored when he stopped in front of the man.

“You did good.” John hadn't moved a muscle nor was there any sign of fear in response to Arthur's very real threat.

“I did good?!” Arthur pointed his index finger at John, ready to scold him. “If you ever-”

John clipped the leash back on the collar and straightened it so the O-ring was perfectly centered.

Arthur stood there, index finger stretched out, John's actions rendered him speechless. With his mouth still agape, his anger was rapidly replaced with confusion. He lowered his head to stare down at the leash in John's hand. But he noticed something else, a massive bulge in John's pants which made his brows shoot up.

“You- you got off on...” There were too many questions, so many that he couldn't string together the words for even a single one.

“Looks like they're about to get up again.” John nodded towards the downed men.

One of the yokels behind Arthur started to groan, louder and louder as his consciousness returned. Arthur turned to face them and John stepped up to his side.

Earl, was the first to get up and immediately scrambled over towards his friend. He shook the man until he too was capable of standing on his feet again. They both swayed and had to lean against each other for support, but it seemed like they were ready for round two.

“You fellas need to scram.” John's hand grabbed hold of the leash, close to the point where it was attached to Arthur's collar.

Earl raised his fists, willing to fight again, his smaller companion seemed more hesitant.

“If I pull this little lever.” John tapped it with his thumb. “He'll be loose and come at you fellers again.”

Arthur snarled at them. He normally wouldn't play along with this, but if it would avoid another fight, he'd gladly do so. The pair looked as if they weren't willing to back off just yet.

“You broke our damned fishin' rods.” Earl took a single step forward, slightly less confident than he had been a moment ago.

“You have 'till the count of five, if you can even count that high.” John informed them.

“We ain't afraid of no half-men.” Ed spat.

“Four.” John's voice was gruff.

The four men stared at each other, neither of them moved. Arthur however, would gladly lay it on them again after being called a half-man. The reminder of their intolerance angered him once more.

“Three.” John continued.

“C-come on Earl, them inverts ain't w-worth our time.” Ed stuttered as he pulled on his friends arm.

Inverts. Arthur growled and stepped towards them, but this time John hadn't let go of the leash, it stopped him after a few more steps. The two yokels however, backed up.

“Two.” A lopsided grin formed on John's face.

That was it for them, they left their broken rods on the ground as they rushed off towards the forest and quickly disappeared behind it's densely packed foliage.

Arthur grit his teeth together. A small part of him hoped they would have picked another fight so he could tell them exactly what he thought about their intolerance. Tell them with his fists that is.

“Down on all fours, pup.” John whispered into Arthur's ear with his gruff voice.

Holy shit. John surprised him with that. If he wasn't attracted to John before, he certainly was now. What was worse, it compelled him to obey. The moment he positioned himself, he felt his gun-belt being removed and his pants pulled down, it all happened so fast. When John crouched down behind him, the man pressed his crotch against his ass.

"We should get our stuff 'n g-" Arthur groaned when the collar was tightened by a single notch.

"Quiet. They're gone." John shifted forward.

Arthur couldn't help himself, he shifted backwards, the feeling of John's bulge against him was too good. It even made him moan ever so slightly. He silently cursed himself for being such a slut.

“Hold still, it's time for your reward.” John spat in his hand.

Arthur's dick twitched before John had even touched it. Like before, he was ready to question himself. To try to figure out what exactly was wrong with him for enjoying this so much. But the moment John's spit covered hand wrapped around his cock, everything was lost to him.

“My big and strong pup.” John pumped him, up and down, fast but firm.

Arthur had to push his teeth against his bottom lip, an attempt to keep quiet.

“I enjoyed watching you, fighting with that collar around your neck.” Unlike before, John slowed his strokes.

Arthur whimpered. He hadn't enjoyed the fight, not like John at least. But the idea of pleasing him and being rewarded for it, that for sure sent a wave of pleasure through him.

“Think I might buy one for you pup, so I can properly mark you as mine.” John sped up again.

Arthur's hands grabbed a fistful of grass as he edged closer to that sweet release.

“You want to please me, don't ya?” John slowed down again, used his thumb to rub circles around the head of Arthur's shaft.

Arthur yelped when John used the back of his fingers to slap his cock.

“Answer me, pup.”

“Y-yes sir, w-want to please.” He breathed the words out, couldn't hold back a loud moan when John rewarded him with another set of firm strokes.

“Good boy. We'll find more things for you to make your owner happy with.” John stopped, his fingers still wrapped around the top of Arthur's cock. When he leaned forward, his groin pressed even harder against Arthur's ass.

“Work for your reward, fuck my hand.” John whispered.

Arthur, desperate for the release he craved, didn't hesitate. He immediately started to grind his hips, back and forth while John held on to his leaking cock. There was no space in his brain for anything else but the heat of the moment, the lust, the need for that glorious orgasm.

“That's it pup.” John held his hand as steady as he could.

Arthur growled as his hips worked hard to fulfill his need, John's encouragement certainly helped his build up.

“Stop.” John ordered.

Arthur was lost in his own desire, kept grinding his hips until John's hand disappeared, he whimpered at it's loss, he was so close.

“When I say stop, you stop. Understood?” John placed a hand on Arthur's upper back and pushed downwards, it forced Arthur to bend over more.

“Y-yes sir.” He managed to say in between labored breaths. Arthur had to plant his elbows on the ground, which his face now almost touched.

“You enjoyed fighting for me, didn't you pup?” John reached around and cupped Arthur's balls, gave them a light squeeze.

“Ah shit... yes, yes I did.” Arthur placed one hand on top of the other so he could rest his forehead on them. “...sir.”

“That's right, I'm sir to you. Good boy.” With only his index finger and thumb, John slowly slid from the bottom, all the way to the top of Arthur's shaft, and down again, then he stopped.

Arthur whimpered when the stroking stopped. He pushed his hips forward, this was countered by an arm which wrapped around his waist.

“Would you fight for me again?” John asked.

He nodded. His hands balled into fists when John slapped the head of his cock not once but three times in rapid succession. A pitiful groan escaped from his mouth at each subsequent slap. 

“Speak.” John demanded.

“A-anything to p-please you, s-sir.” Arthur panted heavily when John tugged his shaft a few times.

“That's what I wanted to hear, pup. Let's finish you off, you deserve it.” John spat in his hand again, he then shifted to get a firm grip on the bottom of Arthur's penis. He started with a few slow strokes and sped up gradually.

Arthur thrust his hips as best as he could in rhythm with John's strokes. The more the man sped up, the louder he started to moan. He opened his mouth, lightly bit into his arm to muffle himself at least a bit.

“I want to hear you.” John's free hand wrapped the leash around itself. He then pulled, which forced Arthur to tilt his head backwards and lean up.

Arthur's balled fists rested on the ground again. Even as he sat up higher on all fours, the collar still somewhat choked him, it pushed him over the edge. He grit his teeth together and roared as a massive load shot out of his dick.

“So damned loud, good boy.” John continued to stroke him, slower now, until Arthur quieted down. He also let go of the leash to give Arthur room to breathe.

Arthur's head lolled forward as soon as he was able to do so, he stayed on his hands and knees, waited for his breathing to calm down.

“Sit up.” John hooked a finger behind the collar and tugged on it until Arthur sat up on his knees.

Arthur tilted his head sideways when John's hand scratched him behind his ear. He felt so relaxed now, more relaxed than he ever had.

“You a happy pup?” John used his other hand to undo the collar.

Arthur lazily opened his eyes to see John smiling down at him. “Yes sir,” he murmured.

After he removed the collar, John scratched the top of Arthur's head a few times. “Alright, clean yourself up, then we gather our stuff and go.”

Arthur whimpered when he was no longer being touched.

John, who already had walked away, turned to face Arthur again. There was still a bulge in his pants. Arthur was happy to see it, it meant the man enjoyed himself too, meant that it was likely this wouldn't end any time soon.

“Don't worry, we'll get to play again soon.” John smirked, took the dirty plate with him on his way to the pond so he could clean it and his cum stained hand.

Arthur sighed, ideally he'd lie down and stare up at the clouds for the next few hours. But John was right, any longer and folk would start questioning their prolonged absence. Folk... not folk, only Dutch would. He got up to his feet, cleaned himself and helped John with removing their small campsite. 

After they had done that, the pair mounted their respective horses and made their way back to camp. Unfortunately for him, being seated on his saddle prevented him from happily thinking back about the moment they just shared. Instead the throbbing in his ass reminded him of Dutch and Henry's stupid toys.

He dreaded to think what Dutch would do if he ever found out that another man had taken possession of him. Especially with that man being John, a man Dutch knew he couldn't kill. Any stranger who dared to touch him without permission would surely be gutted alive by his mentor. Arthur groaned, he was back to worrying about everyone and everything. Maybe that's why he enjoyed the collar so much, like John said, he could relax and focus on nothing but the moment he was in. That means he's not weird, not sick in the head, surely there's loads of folk who would enjoy that? Yeah but those people go out and hunt, or sit on their porches with a drink in their hands. They don't kneel down in front of another man and enjoy being treated like an animal.

“You're sick in the head Morgan.” He mumbled to himself.

“Back to using that brain again huh?” John had matched his riding speed.

“You wouldn't understand with only having half of one.” Arthur retorted.

“Maybe next time I'll go out of my comfort zone and fuck half of yours out.” A wide grin appeared on John's face.

Arthur let out a small moan, fuck, even a few words could rile him up. Like the cheap whore he was.

“Don't.” Arthur sped up his horse, John's Thoroughbred was fast, but not as fast as his Arabian. He wouldn't give the man another chance to get him hard again. No way was he going to show up in camp like that, not when Dutch would surely want a debrief on their job.

“Yeah, figured you'd like that.” John shouted after him.

“Shut up!” He yelled. Along with a slew of curses which were more aimed at himself and his lack of self control. Weird and sick in the head or not, both Dutch and John were sure as heck keeping him happy in their own ways. That had to count for something. If both of them could give him mind blowing orgasms on their own... what would happen if the three of them were in the same room. If both Dutch and John worked him at the same time. Wrong thoughts, his cock stirred again.

Fucking shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too sure about this one, did I add too much introspection for what was to be a smut story with a little bit of plot? Sorry if it was a bit of a turn off because of it. I'm bad at writing smut, so I think I'm trying to hide it behind introspection? I'm not sure.
> 
> Let me know what you think. Thank you for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

The evening had rolled in when Arthur approached the out edge of the Shady Belle. He finally decided to head back home after a not so quick detour to the dusty town of Rhodes. He traveled there to sell off the two rabbit pelts and use it's profits for a few much needed drinks. The job with John and more importantly, the events which played out afterward, had boosted his need for a stiff drink.

“Who goes there?!” John readied the repeater in his hands.

“Arthur.” 

“The hell have you been?” John lowered the weapon.

“Here and there.”

“You kinda left me behind back there.” John almost sounded wounded.

“You was getting on my nerves.” Arthur dismounted and lead his horse for the rest of the distance.

“You sure that all I was getting on?” John couldn't help but grin.

“Shut up Marston, not here. You speak to Dutch?” Barely in camp for a minute and Arthur already wanted to leave again.

“Told him the job went fine, but he wanted to hear it from you. Big surprise there.” John rolled his eyes.

Arthur let out a heavy sigh, nodded at John who then turned around to resume his guard duty. He made his way over to the campfire for a quick cigarette, after that he planned to sneak up to his room and have a nice long sleep.

“Arthur!” Dutch waved down at him from his window balcony.

Or not. Shit.

Dutch could wait. Arthur thought as he lit the cigarette in his mouth, he nodded at Charles and Javier. “Fellas.”

“Hola amigo, come relax with us.” Javier, as always, held on to his guitar, ready play the next tune he'd grace the camp with.

“You boys-” Arthur started to say.

“Arthur?!!” The volume of Dutch's voice was as loud as the impatience inside of it.

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh and tossed his freshly lit cigarette into the fire. “Never mind.” He mumbled on his way over to the building.

“The master doesn't like having to call for his pet more than once.” Micah leaned against the wall with a smirk on his face.

Arthur stopped in front of the entrance, one hand already balled up into a fist.

“Relax cowpoke. It's a joke, ha ha and all that. Learn to smile once in a while, it won't kill you.” Micah already had his hands raised in surrender.

“I'll be smiling at your grave.” Arthur snapped.

Micah chuckled as he pushed the door open for Arthur. “Whatever you say, Morgan.”

Arthur scoffed at him, shook his head on his way in. As he headed up the stairs he fished out the money from his pocket, headed into the room with the donation box and deposited half of their take. After that he knocked on Dutch's door, and entered.

“I don't appreciate being kept waiting, Arthur.” Dutch closed the double windowed door which lead to his balcony.

“Just wanted a smoke is all.” Arthur kept his head turned to the right, the opposite direction of where Dutch stood.

“How did the job go?” Dutch turned around to face him, cigar in hand.

“Fine.” Arthur shrugged. “John could have told you that.”

“Hm hm.” Dutch brought the cigar to his lips and puffed it.

“Six-fifty, decent take, didn't even fire our guns.” Arthur swallowed, his eyes going everywhere except for in Dutch's direction.

“Hm hm.” Dutch slowly stepped closer to Arthur.

“That's all, easy job. I eh, I'm tired so...” He turned to face the door.

“Stop.” Dutch told him.

Arthur's eyes closed for a few seconds. He swallowed again when the wooden boards creaked under Dutch's weight as the man now stood right behind him.

“Turn around.”

“There ain't more to say about the job.” Arthur placed his hand on the doorknob.

“ _Turn_ around.” Dutch repeated, sterner than before.

Arthur turned around with a sigh, still kept his head turned to his right. At least until Dutch cupped his chin and forced his head to face him. He kept his eyes averted from his mentor.

Dutch stared at him, the darkness of the room did not disguise the narrowing of his eyes. Even with the lantern on his bedside table being it's only light source.

“Explain.” Dutch's hand forced Arthur's head to the left, it gave him a clear view of the bruise on Arthur's jawline.

“Just a brawl with some yokels. Nothing serious.”

“Was it related to the job?” Dutch stroked his thumb over it.

“No.” Arthur hissed, wanted to pull his head away but Dutch gave him no room to do so.

“Why did you fight?” 

“We stopped to skin some rabbits, they came up saying it's their pond we was at.” Arthur shrugged.

“And you started a fight over that? You know better than that.”

“Yes.” Arthur sighed, he did know better, which is why he had every intention to avoid one. Until John started to provoke them.

“Clothes off.” Dutch let go of him and stepped back.

“Dutch I just want to sle-” He stopped any further complaints when Dutch glared at him. He sighed loudly, his way of protesting without words. Boots, pants, shirt, they all went off in rapid succession, he folded them up and placed them on an empty chair. He remembered the previous lesson about keeping Dutch's room tidy all too well.

When he turned towards Dutch, the man's eyes drifted down to the bruise on his stomach. Arthur lowered his head, he couldn't help but silently curse at John. This was exactly why he wanted to avoid a fight.

“Same fight?” Dutch walked a circle around Arthur.

Arthur nodded, kept his arms at his side, he was certain those were the only two bruises he had.

“Who do you belong to?” Dutch placed the now unlit cigar on the edge of his ashtray.

“You.” Arthur spoke more quietly. And apparently to John as well. When did he allow his bedroom life to become so complicated?

“And what does that make you?” Dutch's index finger pushed Arthur's chin up until their eyes met.

Arthur frowned, this was new. He had no idea what the answer to that should be.

“It makes you my property. And I fully expect you to take good care of my property.”

Arthur swallowed deeply. He was obviously being reprimanded, but yet his cock stirred. 

Dammit. 

“I know... it's just, I...” His words trailed off into a small sigh. He couldn't mention John, a rat is something he wasn't. That and it risked Dutch asking questions about something no one would expect a not drunken John to ever do. 

_'Here's the thing Dutch, John started the fight so he could get off on watching me beat them up for him.'_ Nope, he could never share that.

“Get your blanket and pillow.” Dutch stepped aside to give Arthur room.

Again he sighed, he knew where this was going. Per Dutch's demand he left the room and retrieved the items. Upon re-entering Dutch's room, he tossed the blanket and pillow on top of it in a corner of the room. Dutch had already positioned himself on the bed with a book in his hands.

“Two hours seems suitable.”

“Two?! Dutch come on it's late and-” He stopped mid sentence when Dutch brought a finger to his own lips.

Arthur mumbled the rest of it to himself. He knelt down on the pile of cloth with his face to the wall. Two hours of kneeling here and being bored. _Thanks_ John.

There were more things he wanted to discuss with Dutch. Henry related things. But only because being called property reminded him of the hypocrisy behind Dutch's statement. He'd mention it tomorrow, when the man would hopefully be in a better mood.

Two fucking hours. As if he's a God damned child.

Arthur groaned. As always, time felt like it progressed slower than usual when he was forced to endure this type of punishment. At least his arousal was long gone, but not his fatigue.

“Keep your head straight.” Dutch said.

Right, resting his head against the wall was not allowed. Nor was turning around, at least he'd have some visual stimulation if he didn't have to face the damned wall.

So he waited, and waited some more. Until finally the agonizing two hours had come and gone. Well, he assumed they had when Dutch beckoned him over.

“Do you regret your decision?” Dutch closed the book and reached under his pillow for a small key.

“I... I do.” Arthur swallowed nervously. He knew what the key was for, when Dutch opened that drawer he would truly be fucked. He dreaded to think what would happen once his mentor saw that a certain item was missing.

Dutch turned the key, opened the drawer and retrieved his small tin of petroleum jelly.

From where he stood, Arthur could see the collar being one of the items inside the drawer. He could finally breathe again, thankful that John actually did something right. He had no idea how the man managed it, but he had, which was all that mattered.

“Expecting something different?” Dutch stared up at him.

“No. I ehm, tired, like I said.” For a professional thief and liar he sure was very bad at this whenever he faced Dutch.

“Look, Dutch, I'll stay out of fights. You know I do, today was just some weird exception.” 

“Quiet, that mouth of yours is needed elsewhere.” Dutch unbuttoned his pants and spread his legs so Arthur could kneel in between them.

He cleared his throat when his cock stirred again. Why was it always as simple as a few words for him?

Arthur licked his lips, he took the top of Dutch's shaft in one hand and held it steady. His tongue eagerly stroked along the side of it as he moaned softly.

“That's it. Get it nice and wet, you know where that's going next.” Dutch placed his hands behind him on the bed.

“Hm hm.” Arthur moaned his acknowledgment as he coated Dutch's cock with every bit of saliva his mouth could produce.

“Foolish boy, getting yourself hurt.” Dutch growled, his chin now raised as he tilted his head backwards.

Arthur ignored the statement, his focus was on tasting Dutch, on using his tongue well enough until he managed to draw out some of that bitter tasting nectar from Dutch's cock.

Dutch went silent and thrust his hips upward.

Arthur smirked, Dutch was his now. His hand drew back a bit of the foreskin on Dutch's shaft to reveal it's most sensitive area.

A whimper came from Dutch, his eyes now closed, he leaned back heavily on his elbows while Arthur worked him over good.

Arthur swirled his tongue around the head, determined to make his mentor squirm. He then eagerly and loudly slurped up the bits of pre-cum which started to leak out.

Dutch shifted around, again he thrust his hips upward. He now bared his teeth and growled.

A few seconds was as long as he allowed the head of Dutch's shaft to be in his mouth. Instead his tongue traced a path on the underside of it, all the way towards it's base. While his thumb applied a gentle amount of pressure on it's head.

“A-are you edging me, boy?” Dutch panted.

“No.” He lied before he slowly stroked his way up and down towards the center of Dutch's cock.

When Arthur went in again to take the tip of Dutch's cock in his mouth, the older man surprised him by the speed at which he got a hand in his hair and thrust in further.

“Hmmpf!” Arthur's yelp was mostly muffled when the head of it rubbed across the roof of his mouth and headed towards the back of his throat.

“Still think edging me is a good idea?” Dutch, having regained control of himself, sat up straight, albeit it still somewhat out of breath.

Arthur shook his head with his eyes closed, already his gag reflex kicked in and forced him to concentrate. He shifted backwards, but the hand in his hair tightened it's grip.

“First you go out and get that beautiful body damaged. And then you think you're in charge in this room.” Dutch tutted at him.

“O' mmhh 'll” 'Not my fault,' he tried to say.

“Eyes open, you will look at your daddy while you choke on his cock.” Dutch forced Arthur's head to tilt backward ever so slightly.

Arthur opened his eyes, his hands now rested on Dutch's thighs.

“Good.” Dutch cooed. “Now I want to see you take in more.”

Arthur's whimper was entirely lost against the shaft in his mouth. The hand in his hair loosened a bit and allowed him to lean forward and take an inch more of Dutch in his mouth. He then had to pause again to allow his throat to adjust.

The twitching of Dutch's hips told him the man was resisting the urge to thrust in further. A level of self control he admired.

“More.” Dutch demanded.

Arthur shifted forward on his knees. Now focused on breathing through his nose only, he took in a bit more of Dutch's cock. Again he had to fight against his body's urge to expel the mass which almost blocked off his airway.

“Palm up.” Dutch tapped the top of Arthur's right hand. He quickly opened his tin of petroleum-jelly and placed a glob of it in Arthur's hand.

“Stroke yourself, slowly.” Dutch ordered.

Eager to oblige, Arthur wrapped his slick hand around his own shaft and slowly pleasured his semi-erection. It was a bit harder to manage and concentrate while Dutch's cock threatened to both make him cry and suffocate.

“Let me hear you.”

Arthur gave himself a few firm strokes so his moan was as loud and genuine as possible.

Dutch growled at that, the vibrations of Arthur's noises made him leak straight down the man's throat.

“That's right. We'll see who edges who.” Dutch snarled.

They continued on like this for a few more minutes. Arthur being told to stroke himself harder, so that he would moan louder. And Dutch getting closer to his own climax every time the man between his legs did so.

Arthur, always faster to reach that point of bliss than Dutch, was on the verge of spilling when his neck was being severely constricted. It made him open his eyes up at Dutch and realize that the collar was being tightened around his neck.

“If you shoot without my permission, I'll force many more out of you.” Dutch straightened the collar until the O-ring was perfectly centered at the back of Arthur's neck.

With a muffled whimper, Arthur let go of himself, he was so close. But the prospect of several forced orgasms until his dick was chafed, turned out to be the only motivation he needed to stop.

“You don't deserve to taste daddy in your mouth.” Dutch pulled himself out of Arthur's mouth, got to his feet and dragged Arthur up on the bed by the collar.

“Please.” Arthur groaned and shifted when his hard on was trapped between his body and the bed.

“Please what?” Dutch used a bit of the jelly to further coat his throbbing erection.

“Want to feel you inside of me.” Arthur used one hand to get his dick in a more comfortable position while the other pulled at the constricting collar.

“Hands next to you. Or do I have to tie you up?”

Arthur responded with a moan before his mind even processed the words. Almost immediately his arms were wrenched behind him and a soft material wrapped around his wrists before it was knotted in between them.

“Perfect. All mine to do with as I please.” Dutch purred as his hands stroked across Arthur's shoulder blades.

Arthur tested the bindings around his wrists. It must be a bandana or something, still, Dutch had knotted it very well, he couldn't easily free himself. The more he wriggled his bound wrists, the more his cock throbbed.

“Hmm, like that don't you?” Dutch positioned his cock at Arthur's entrance.

“Shit, please Dutch, I need you now.” Arthur begged.

“Say it right.”

“I n-need you d-daddy.” He said more quietly, still not entirely comfortable with it.

“Louder.” Dutch reached under Arthur's body until he was able to fondle the man's balls and squeeze them.

Arthur squealed and shifted around, but Dutch had him properly straddled on the bed.

“Fuck me daddy.” He said through grit teeth.

“That's it.” Dutch pushed his way past Arthur's sphincter, careful not to hurt him.

“Relax for me.” To help ease Arthur, Dutch gently stroked the outer edge of the younger man's hips.

Arthur took a few deep breaths before he nodded. “Ready.”

“Still so tight.” Dutch leaned forward so he could push in deeper.

Arthur had to bury his face into the mattress so he could muffle his loud moan. He felt so full already. And shit was he ever so desperate to touch himself, but now he couldn't. Ironically the inability to do what he wanted, turned him on even more.

“Tell me what you want.” With one final but careful push, Dutch managed to fully bury himself inside of Arthur.

“F-fuck me, please.”

“As you wish.” Dutch grinned, pulled back and thrust forward again. Slow at first, until the motion became easier and easier.

Arthur got louder with every thrust. His teeth managed to grab some fabric of the bed covers and pull it into his mouth in order to muffle himself. He hissed when Dutch's nails dug into his shoulder and thigh, the man had started to lose himself in his own orgasmic bliss as he got closer.

“G-gonna fill you up, boy.” Dutch grunted as his hips slapped against Artur's ass.

Arthur moaned something unintelligible. Every time Dutch thrust forward, there was friction from the sheets against his cock. The more he pulled against the bindings around his wrist, the more they tightened and reminded him that he was completely at Dutch's mercy. And the longer he thought about that, the more he started to leak.

Shit.

Dutch had moved his hand off of Arthur's shoulder and grabbed hold of the leash on his collar. When his mentor pulled on it, intentionally or not, it forced his chin up. At the same time it became harder to breathe. Arthur's outcry was heavily strangled, he thrust his hips forward and clenched his ass at the same time. The man behind him growled when he did so. He knew Dutch had found that sweet release when he felt the man's cock spasm inside of him.

Arthur's chin was pulled further up as Dutch emptied himself inside of him. He gurgled a moan, it was too much for him. His wrists strained against their bindings and stars danced at the edge of his vision when he himself exploded shortly after Dutch had.

"So good." Dutch let go of the leash and steadied himself.

Arthur's head fell back on top of the mattress. He was still somewhat dazed when he felt Dutch's hand reach under him and go for his cock.

“Well well.” Dutch sounded out of breath.

Arthur mumbled something. He hadn't intended to cum, but at the same time he hadn’t fought against it either. He couldn't even remember the last time he came without being touched there.

“Looks like you failed to obey me.” Dutch had leaned forward to whisper into Arthur's ear.

Arthur whimpered and squirmed around as he lay there on his stomach in between a now kneeling Dutch.

“I... didn't mean to.” Arthur mumbled.

“Always an excuse ready.” Dutch clambered off the bed and pulled Arthur upward so his head could rest on top of a pillow, he then flipped the man over.

“I'm... I'm still tied-up.” Arthur shifted his hips around when he felt the remnants of Dutch leak out of his ass now that he was face up.

“That you are.” Dutch grabbed hold of the leash, wound it around the metal of the bed frame above Arthur and tied it off. He then proceeded to clean himself and button his pants back up.

Arthur anxiously licked his lips. It was impossible to keep his eyes averted from Dutch and not watch the man's every move. At least until, to his surprise, Dutch left the room.

“Shit.” Arthur's fingers fidgeted around, he tried to reach the knot but Dutch had carefully placed it out of reach. And now that he was hitched to the bed frame, there was nowhere for him to go.

His head turned to face the door when it opened, for a second he feared it was anyone but Dutch, but thankfully it wasn't.

“Dutch, you can't leave me here like this, anyone could walk in.” He complained.

“Still so ashamed of being mine.” Dutch closed the door.

“Not this again.” Arthur turned his head with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling. His attention no longer on Dutch until his left leg was being pulled outward. Arthur raised his head with a frown on his face, the frown deepened when he saw a coil of rope in Dutch's hand.

“Dutch?”

“Hm?” Dutch smirked, he tightened his grip on Arthur's ankle and quickly looped a few lengths of rope around it. When that was done he tied it off against the edge of the bedpost.

“Dutch we shouldn't be doing this here.” Arthur pulled his free leg up towards his body, but a standing Dutch had every advantage on him and easily dragged it back down.

Dutch made sure Arthur's legs were fairly spread out before he tied the other to the opposite bedpost. He then undressed and removed his boots before he joined Arthur on the bed.

“Three.” Dutch said after he settled in and propped his head up with his arm.

“Three?” Arthur frowned at him.

“That's how many more times daddy is going to make you cum.” Dutch's finger circled around Arthur's nipple.

Even though his cock twitched, Arthur still swallowed nervously.

“One for every infraction of yours.” Dutch counted on his fingers. “Damaging my property, edging me and coming without my permission.” He traced the three fingers from Arthur's chest down towards the man's groin.

“I-I can't d-do three.” Arthur stammered while his cock betrayed him.

“Hmmm.” Dutch contentedly sighed.

“Looks like you don't have a choice.” Dutch wrapped his fingers around Arthur's shaft and gave it a few tugs.

“It's going to be a long night for daddy's boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, this was one was poorly written, more so than usual. It feels like I didn't string it together properly to make it flow nicely. Hm... Sorry about that.


	11. Chapter 11

It had been a long night for the two men in Dutch's room. As per his promise, Dutch had spent many hours bringing Arthur to the brink of release, only to deny him and start again. In doing so, he had gotten at least three more orgasms out of his younger protege. With all the time they spent together, the pair of them had only managed to catch a few hours of sleep. By now the early morning sun made it's appearance through the large windows of the room they slumbered in.

“You awake yet?” Dutch couldn't resist tweaking and teasing Arthur's nipple.

“No Dutch, I'm fast asleep.”

“Always such a character in the morning.”

“You gonna untie me already? Can't feel my arms.” Arthur kept his eyes closed.

“Not with that attitude.” Dutch smirked when he pinched a nipple and made Arthur hiss.

“There's some things we need to discuss, but not when I'm spread out on your bed.” Arthur turned his head, his eyes opened with a sleepy but obvious glare in them.

“Oh you could be much more spread out than this.” Dutch teased.

Arthur rolled his eyes, shifted around to try to turn on his side and get some pressure off his crushed arms. A futile attempt with his legs as spread out as they were.

“Fine. We need to discuss this whole Henry business.” Arthur grumbled.

“Before morning coffee? I think not. Also you need a good washing.” Dutch picked at the bits of dried cum on Arthur's belly.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the man.

“Temper.” Dutch returned the look of annoyance, only his was far more effective.

When Arthur turned his head away, Dutch cupped his chin to keep it in place. The older man's thumb stroked across the now dark purple bruise on Arthur's jawline.

“Do you know where they live?”

“What?” Arthur side-glanced at him with a frown on his face. “'Course not. Geez Dutch, folk get punched all the time.”

“I only care about you.”

“Really? Is that why you let Hen-” Dutch's hand quickly covered Arthur's mouth. “Mmbbbll?!”

“Coffee first.” Dutch rolled his eyes, clearly not interested in the direction Arthur wanted to take the conversation to.

Dutch patted Arthur on his cheek. He then quickly stepped into his boots and finished buttoning up his shirt on the way out. This left Arthur alone and fixed to his bed. Exactly where he wanted him.

Annoyed with his predicament, Arthur once more wriggled around as much as he could in an attempt to free himself. If he could get out, then there would be nothing Dutch could do to stop him from leaving. _If_ he could get out.

When the doorknob turned to softly for it to be Dutch, he halted his efforts. 'Shit, shit, shit, anyone but Micah.' Was all a wide eyed Arthur could think about.

John opened the door as quietly as he could and stopped when his body was about halfway into the room. “Oh.”

Arthur shook his head rapidly with very short motions. “No, out.” He quietly said.

John paused in the doorway, considered his options. A small grin appeared on his face before he fully slid into the room and closed the door behind him.

“John, get out!” Arthur whispered as loud as he dared.

There was no reply from John, not until he stopped at the foot of the bed. “I was here for that.” John pointed at his own neck.

“You crazy? You ain't stealing from Dutch again. Should be counting your blessings that the last time went unnoticed.”

“I'm just that good.” John smugly said.

“Lucky is what you was.” Arthur got more annoyed by the second.

“You seem to be pretty trussed up.” John checked a knot of the rope which held one of Arthur's ankles in place.

“Marston I swear you best be leaving right now.” Arthur glared at him.

“So throw me out.” John stared back at Arthur with a lopsided grin on his face.

Arthur growled at the man, his arms were mostly asleep but he still managed to prop himself up ever so slightly.

“Look at that.” John whistled once, his hand cupped Arthur's jaw and turned the man's head so the bruised side faced him.

“Can't wait to see you fight for me again, pup.” John leaned in to whisper those words into Arthur's ear.

The anger in Arthur's face faded away when the part which betrayed him most, stirred between his legs. “Shit... John don't. Dutch weren't happy.”

“I don't care.” John moved his free hand to scratch Arthur behind his ear. “Can't blame me for not resisting when this is around your neck.” He released his grip on Arthur's jaw to hook a finger underneath the front of the collar. “Can you, pup?”

“N-no sir.” A quiet moan escaped from Arthur's mouth when he leaned into John's touch.

John immediately pulled his hands away from Arthur when the doorknob turned. The last thing he managed before it opened was to pull the bed sheets over Arthur's groin area. He quickly piled them up, hoped it would hide Arthur's semi hard on.

“John?” Dutch furrowed his brows, a coffee can in one hand and a burlap sack in the other.

“Dutch. Been looking for Arthur to see if he were interested in some work.” John walked past Dutch who emptied the items in his hands on the small table in the corner.

“Sit down John.” Dutch poured two cups of coffee.

Arthur kept his focus on the ceiling above, he felt a bit hot and hoped to God that his face wasn't flushed. At least his erection rapidly faded.

John glanced around, there wasn't an empty chair.

“Put those on the bed.” Dutch nodded towards Arthur's clothes.

John did as told and sat down, seemed fairly calm.

“That's the second time you've been in my room without me inside. Care to elaborate?” Dutch held one of the steaming cups out to John.

“Second?” John kept his composure, nodded a thank you as he accepted the brew.

Dutch turned on his heels, towards the bed, he leaned in and slowly dragged the bed sheets away from Arthur.

Arthur's heart pounded wildly in his chest. Thankfully he managed to keep his breathing under control, or so he hoped. His erection was definitely fine now, fine meaning that it was no longer present, not even remotely.

“Hm.” Dutch sounded as if he expected to see something else. “You were in here yesterday evening. In spite of seeing me downstairs.” 

“Oh yeah uh, was looking for Arthur, weren't sure if he was back yet.” John glanced over at Arthur while Dutch had his back turned to him. But the man kept his gaze straight up towards the ceiling.

“If he was back, his horse would have been with the others.” Dutch turned to face John.

“Yeah I kinda forgot to check.” John shrugged.

“Did you now?” Dutch picked up his own cup of coffee and sipped it.

“Am I in trouble for that? I didn't come in, just checked through the door.” John lied.

“You know the rules John, always knock first.” Dutch walked over to the small table and fished around in the sack.

Arthur finally removed his gaze from the ceiling when Dutch walked all the way around the bed to stand to his right. What he hadn't seen was that Dutch carried two more smaller coils of rope until the man dropped them on his chest. Arthur wanted to protest. Not when Dutch unhitched the leash from the bed-frame. Not even when he was pushed up to a sitting position, awkward as it was with his legs still spread out. But when Dutch pushed him back down and brought one of his sleeping arms above his head, that's when he wanted to protest. But Dutch was in this extremely stern mood of his, and because of it Arthur knew better than to speak up. Again because of fucking John Marston.

“So can I go then?” John asked while he watched Dutch loop a rope around Arthur's wrist and tie it off to the rightmost side of the metal headboard.

“No.” Dutch walked around the bed and repeated the same process with Arthur's left arm. Leaving the man complete spread out in a perfect X.

“You're very unfazed by all this aren't you, John?” Dutch retrieved a cigar from his bedside table and lit it.

“You know I've known about it for some time, Dutch.” John stared down at his own cup.

“Still. To most this is a very disagreeable practice, especially with this. You don't seem the least bit uncomfortable.” Dutch leaned over so he could grab the leash and re-tie it to the bed-frame, he did it tight enough to draw a strangled protest from Arthur.

Arthur shifted upwards to relieve some of the strain against his neck, but the ropes around his ankles were already taut and left him no room to do so. If John had been crumbling under the pressure it went unnoticed to him, he wasn't too sure if Dutch had seen or heard something he hadn't.

“It eh, to each their own ya know?” John cleared his throat before he sipped his coffee for the first time.

“Hm hm.” Dutch sat down on the bed, his cigar now wedged between his teeth. He reached behind him with one hand and stroked it over Arthur's inner thigh. “So it doesn't bother you?”

“Your secret is safe with me, if that's what you mean.” John finished the last of his coffee.

“It bothers me.” Arthur couldn't resist the urge to bite back now that Dutch touched him in front of John. Something he wasn't comfortable with before and even less so now.

“Ssshh.” Dutch shifted around so he could rest a hand on top of Arthur's mouth. “Not a peep from you.”

Arthur's eyes narrowed, with the strain on his neck he could no longer crane it and see John to gauge the man's reactions.

“How are things between you and Abigail?” Dutch withdrew from Arthur's mouth so he could resume caressing the man's inner thighs once more.

“Abigail?” John cleared his throat again. “I uhh, we uh, we broke it off a few weeks ago.”

“I see. Why were you in here again?” Dutch shifted his line of questions.

“Another job I been wanting to do for some time. Told you I came to ask Arthur.”

“You and him have been doing a lot of jobs together as of late.” Dutch's hand slid over to a more sensitive area of Arthur's body.

“That ain't allowed now?” John retorted, not once did he avert his eyes from Dutch's.

Dutch lowered his eyes towards John's groin area and back up to meet the man's gaze.

“If I catch you in here again without me being present, Arthur or not, there will be hell to pay for it.” Dutch assured him.

“Alright alright, geez.” John got up, set the cup down next to Dutch's and hurried out the door.

Dutch turned around and rested half of one leg on the bed so he could comfortably face Arthur. The hand which fondled the man's loins now rested on his chest.

“You seem tense my boy.” Dutch pointed out.

“I... you know I ain't comfortable with others around.” Arthur quickly said.

“You sure that's all it was?” Dutch raised his brows.

“You had your fun, can you untie me now? We still need to have that talk.” Arthur swallowed when something changed in Dutch's eyes.

“Oh we are going to have a talk alright.” Dutch said.

Arthur eyed him suspiciously. If this would head in the direction he feared, then he'd rip John's head off, unless Dutch beat him to it. No, John did fine during Dutch's little interrogation, there was no reason for him to suspect anything.

“So... you and John.” Dutch started.

Shit.

“I thought we was going to discuss Henry?”

“Sssh.” Dutch pressed his index finger against Arthur's lips.

“It's a shame I need you talking. I truly enjoyed filling up that defiant mouth of yours.” Dutch grinned when his words made Arthur's cock twitch.

“What, you going to interrogate me like some lawman?” Arthur scoffed.

“Encountered any sheriffs who know your body as well as I do?” Dutch took each of Arthur's nipples between his thumb and index finger. The grin he previously sported now turned more devious.

“Hey now this- aah.” Arthur's back arched when Dutch pinched both of them at the same time “-this ain't fair.”

“Fair? I don't deal in fair my boy. I deal in the truth.” Dutch shushed Arthur before a reply could come out.

“But first I need to take a moment to let your beauty sink in.” Dutch's hands wandered all over Arthur's body. “Except for these two bruises.” His expression darkened, “no more of those, is that clear?”

“Sure. Good thing we ain't thieves and killers. Heard you tend to end up with a lot of bruises in that line 'o work.”

“I'll keep you here.” Dutch threatened. One hand reached up to grab a fistful of Arthur's hair.

“I'm the most experienced one, you need me out there.” Arthur aggressively bit back.

“Be quiet.” Dutch bared his teeth and leaned in.

Arthur moaned when Dutch's lips pressed up against his own, he parted his own for the man, loved how Dutch tasted like cigar smoke and expensive bourbon. He couldn't imagine a more manly taste than this. Dutch pulled back and Arthur followed, wanted their lips to make contact again. Only a few inches of lifting his head made the collar strongly press against his windpipe, he lowered it again with a pitiful whine.

“All mine,” Dutch stroked a hand through Arthur's hair, “are you not?”

“I am.” He licked his lips to get another taste of the sweet remnants of Dutch.

“Let's find out.” He scooped two finger fulls of petroleum jelly out of the tin, Dutch then smeared it along the side of Arthur's shaft.

“U-untie me first.” Arthur's had to close his eyes, he knew what Dutch planned, it terrified him. He'd been too docile and allowed himself to be spread out on the man's bed with all his limbs tightly bound. 

“Tell me about yourself and John.” Dutch made sure he spread the slick substance all over Arthur's now hardening cock. The tin had been set down on the bound man's belly and Dutch's free hand had reached up to play with Arthur's nipple, a sensitive spot for his boy.

“There... shit, there ain't nothing to s-say.” Arthur hissed when a finger rubbed in circles over his nipple. He had to focus, had to keep his lust in check. But his body started to betray him faster than he feared it would.

“You were tense when I questioned him.”

“You'd be tense when you're naked and tied up with someone else in the room.” Good answer, partially the truth as well. This might be possible after all.

“I'd put myself on display all the time if I had a body as gorgeous as yours.” Dutch's hand abandoned the nipple it teased so he it could be traced across Arthur's broad chest.

“Lot'sa men would be eager to have a well aged body like yours.” In his opinion, Dutch had an amazing body, more so than his own he thought.

Arthur almost melted when Dutch smiled at him with a warmth equal to a burning fire. If he wasn't trapped he'd have cuddled up to the man and buried his face in that strong chest of his. Dutch's smile hadn't lingered as long as he wanted it to, then again, forever was a very long time.

“Don't distract me boy.” 

With the side of Arthur's cock now covered in lube, it was easy for Dutch to spread it further as he started to slowly stroke it from top to bottom.

Shit, shit, shit. Don't give in, don't get hard. He's going to keep you on edge for hours until he hears what he wants to hear. This is bad, Arthur struggled to keep his mind in a place away from Dutch and his warm, slick hand.

“Did John change his interest to men?” Dutch made sure he pulled back Arthur's foreskin every time he reached the top.

“How 'm I- ugh... How'm I s-supposed to know.” Arthur grit his teeth together, so far he managed to keep his hips as still as possible. A small achievement, but an achievement never the less.

“You'd be the one he confides in, knowing your interests.”

“J-John ain't... likes to keep things to himself.”

“Hm. Question is, do I keep going until you're blue balled, or do I force one out of you first?”

“Neither. Dutch come on.” The metal bed frame squeaked when he pulled against the ropes with all his limbs.

“Stop it, I don't want marks on your wrists.” Dutch warned.

“You the one who put me like this.” The irony of it all made Arthur scoff.

“Hush now.” Dutch cupped Arthur's jaw in his hand, it's thumb rested on the top of Arthur's bottom lip, pushed down and slid in as soon it could.

Arthur knew he was in trouble when Dutch's expert fingers wrapped themselves around his shaft once more. He had suffered through a fair share of interrogations from both the law and the O'Driscoll's, never had he revealed anything. But they weren't Dutch, a beating seemed laughable compared to the things he knew his mentor to be capable of.

“'aph.” The thumb in his mouth kept a decent amount of pressure on his tongue, rendered his plea for Dutch to stop unintelligible.

“Tell me about you and John.” Dutch sped up his strokes, when Arthur hesitated to answer, he rested his thumb on the tip of his cock and circled it around.

“Uuuh uh.” Arthur shook his head, how could Dutch expect an answer while he held his tongue hostage?

“There ain't nothing.” He quickly said as soon as the thumb lifted.

“You'd have me believe that the two of you working together more and me catching him in my room with you naked is merely a coincidence?” Dutch pressed his thumb down again, deeper into Arthur's mouth.

Arthur's eyes widened for a moment when Dutch triggered his gag reflex. He then pulled against the ropes around his wrists first, the ones around his ankles next. The tightness of his bindings made him feel so powerless to stop anything Dutch wanted to do to him. Thankfully Dutch had pulled his thumb back, far enough to no longer make him gag.

“The noises you make are so delicious.” Dutch cooed.

“Uh huh.” Arthur nodded, his eyes now closed. The more he thought about how powerless he was, the harder he became. It had only been minutes and Dutch already managed to turn him into a blubbering fool.

“That's it, just enjoy. Now practice on that finger in your mouth.” Dutch's thumb tapped against Arthur's tongue.

Arthur moaned against the digit in his mouth after he clumsily started to lick it, his lips now tightly wrapped around the invader. This wasn't a slow and sensual thing, at least not when Dutch started pump him faster.

“Tell me when you're close.” Dutch pushed his thumb far enough in until Arthur gagged again.

A gurgled noise escaped from his mouth, that was all it took for his arousal to increase tenfold. No doubt he already leaked fiercely. But he knew; in the back of his mind he knew that Dutch would cease all contact if he told the man he was close. On the other hand, if he pushed through in silence for that sweet release, Dutch would punish him with more orgasms until he was raw and dry.

Shit.

“'A 'ose.” He mumbled around Dutch's hand. The words were out before he had even decided which would be better of two evils, his mind already to cloudy and overcome with lust to think fast and clearly.

“Good, you did so good my boy.” Dutch withdrew his thumb, the lube covered hand he wiped clean on the sheets.

“N-no, need more please.” Arthur whimpered. He knew what awaited him, that it was useless to beg. But shit he was close. His hips arched up as much as they could, which was hardly a few inches with how stretched out Dutch had restrained him.

“You want me to finish you off, hmm?” Dutch's finger brushes around Arthur's groin.

“Y-yes, 'm close, please.” Arthur's eyes pleaded with the man who stood beside him.

“But you know I won't give you any more stimulation, don't you?”

“W-we... there's nothing between me and John.”

“John and I,” Dutch corrected. “I'm going to bring you close a few more times before I'll accept that as the truth.”

Arthur groaned and pressed the back of his head against the pillow. His wrists tugged against their restraints out of frustration.

Dutch walked around the bed, poured himself some coffee and pulled a piece of bread out of the burlap sack. He sat down on the bed, back turned to Arthur, took his time to eat and drink. Every few minutes he glanced behind him to see how Arthur's erection was doing.

Arthur craned his neck when Dutch had gotten up. As much the collar allowed him to, his deep swallow very audible with it pressed against his throat.

“Round two. Or do I get a more honest answer from you?” Dutch brushed the tips of his fingers against the side of Arthur's cock, the action spurred an immediate reaction from his squirming captive. 

“Yous just being paranoid, Dutch.” Arthur wriggled his wrists around, hoped the ropes would just snap free without effort so he could jump up and bolt out of the door.

“We'll see.” Dutch pulled a white cloth out of his pocket.

Arthur frowned when Dutch dipped the rag into the cup he carried. It came out brown, coffee, he figured. His frown deepened when Dutch brought the rag to his semi hard cock. His initial reaction was to flinch, fearing it would be hot as hell. But when it made contact with his shaft it was merely lukewarm, he sighed with relief.

Dutch carefully cleaned the petroleum-jelly off of Arthur's cock. He glanced over towards Arthur as he dipped and soaked the rag in the last of bit of coffee he had left. Again he went over and around all of Arthur's shaft and balls with it, when finished, he wrenched it out on top of Arthur's almost flaccid cock.

“W-what are doing?” A small, gurgled cough came out when he craned his neck again to see what Dutch was up to.

“Adding a bit of taste to you.” Dutch said with a wide grin on his face.

Arthur gasped when Dutch leaned in towards his groin. The man was about to suck him. As experienced as he knew Dutch to be from the two times he had done it before, it had sadly become a rarity.

“Hmm. Delicious on top of delicious.” Dutch mused as he dragged his tongue along Arthur's coffee soaked shaft.

“Sh- nggh, shit.” Arthur hissed. His hips thrust upwards immediately, one stroke from Dutch's tongue sent his mind into a pit of bliss from which there was no escape.

“You like daddy's tongue, don't ya?” Dutch gripped Arthur's shaft with one hand as he worked his tongue over and around it's tip, gave it extra attention, slurped up what was there. His fingers slowly slid across it's veined surface while his tongue moved in the opposite direction until it reached the base.

“Oh God yes... yes please.” Arthur snarled the words 'more' and 'please' as he continued to thrust his hips against Dutch's hand with what little slack he had. His cock now red as it throbbed in the man's grasp. 

“Beg for daddy.” Dutch licked faster, his tongue rapidly went around the base of Arthur cock while his hand gave him a few firm tugs. He then moved to it's underside so he plant a few slurping kisses on Arthur's balls.

“I... I want you. Want you to- ah shit. Please suck me off.” Arthur whined.

Dutch wrenched the rag out over Arthur's lower belly, moved towards his chest after every few drops and managed to squeeze it's remainders into his boy's mouth. He then started to plant soft kisses on top of every bit of liquid. Started from the bottom until he finally reached Arthur's lips.

Arthur opened his mouth when Dutch nibbled on his bottom lip, he expected a kiss. But the man moved past his mouth towards his earlobe. He tilted his head sideways when Dutch poked it with his tongue.

“What are you two up to. Tell me so daddy can really taste his boy.” Dutch whispered.

Arthur hissed when Dutch had sneaked his hand up towards one of his nipples and started to play with it. His mentor tweaked and pulled on it's sensitive flesh.

“It's... nothing, we j-just. Shit Dutch.” Arthur's breath was somewhat labored, his cock eager to burst but lacked that final bit of stimulation it needed to empty it's load.

“Keep talking.” Dutch cooed. His hand brushed over Arthur's chest so it could give the man's other nipple the same amount of attention.

“H-he d-don't want 'nother man to... to touch him.” Arthur kept his eyes closed, but could feel the warmth of Dutch's face. Could smell his coffee littered breath as Dutch hovered close to his mouth.

“This is what you taste like when you're mixed with coffee.” Dutch's husky voice said right before he forced his tongue into Arthur's willing mouth.

Arthur's loud moan had nowhere to go but straight into Dutch's throat. Their tongues collided, he tasted the bitterness of the coffee, laced with hints of Dutch and himself. It intoxicated him, made him whimper desperately when the man pulled back after only a few seconds.

“So you discussed touching each other?” Dutch asked.

Arthur sheepishly nodded.

“Did you touch each other where you shouldn't?” Both of Dutch's hands circled their middle fingers around each of Arthur's nipples, not quite touching, but close enough to be just as sensitive.

“H-he jerked me off.” Arthur admitted. Regret filled him as soon as the words had left his mouth. But if the reward would be for Dutch to take him into his mouth. Well he'd gladly have that be the last thing he experienced before Dutch lynched him.

He was close, even closer when Dutch's hands traced down towards his groin. He'd get his reward in seconds for being a good boy and giving Dutch what he wanted. The idea of pleasing his mentor only pushed him further towards the edge of sweet release. 

Arthur opened his eyes as he continued to pant. The hands had disappeared right as they were about to reach the base of his shaft. Dutch stood up straight, watched him with a gaze he couldn't discern.

“I-I told you what you wanted to hear.” Arthur tried. Shit he was so desperate, but he knew this was a battle he would never have won. Unfortunately he hadn't lasted even half as long as he expected he would. Never had he expected Dutch to use his mouth on him. Now he realized that he should have known the man would go as far as he needed to extrapolate the information he sought after.

Bastard.

Even worse, his mentor seemed to not have any intention to continue what he started. He could only watch as Dutch opened the doors to the balcony and exited through them.

“John.” Dutch called out. “Get up here.”

Shit. Arthur knew he was screwed now, and not in the good way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow updates, this month has been very hectic so far. I'm also trying hard to write a smut scene into every single chapter, just a small challenge I've set for myself. The hardest part is to not have it be a repeat of things I've done in previous chapters. I hope it's somewhat enjoyable? I'm not sure if I should leave in breaks between the smut? But I should definitely push the plot a bit more.
> 
> I hope you're all doing well! Thank you as always for reading


	12. Chapter 12

Arthur shifted on the bed, his balls ached something fierce from Dutch's continued denial. A persistence to pull against his bindings had tightened them to a point of discomfort. On the opposite side of the room Dutch still paced around ever since he had called for John. It had only been a few minutes until there was a soft knock on the door.

“Enter.” Dutch called out.

“Yeah?” John asked as he pushed the door open, his gaze immediately fell on Arthur's still naked and bound form. Dutch asked him to close the door, he complied, his eyes now darted between the two men. “What?”

“Arthur told me everything.” Dutch positioned himself so he could keep an eye on both Arthur and John with relative ease.

Arthur opened his mouth to inform John that this wasn't true, but Dutch had warned him. As soon as the man had closed his balcony doors his threat was clear.

 _'One word when John is in the room and I'll keep you in denial for the rest of the day.'_ Dutch had told him. It was clear that he was a bit of a masochist, but not _that_ much of one. Hopefully this was all a temporary mood, one which would fade rapidly and allow him to regain a sense of normalcy. Then he'd be back to being a man who didn't get off on being owned by others, on being left powerless to stop whatever was about to be done to his body.

“Okay?” John shrugged, “about what?”

“Don't play games with me Mr. Marston.” 

“I ain't got a clue Dutch.” John persisted.

Arthur wondered if John really planned to keep up the pretense. A commendable effort, but surely one which was doomed to fail. John was no match for Dutch. On the other hand, Dutch wasn't about to strip John to edge him for hours until he spilled the beans. So maybe there was a chance?

“Yourself and Arthur have been getting... _intimate_ without my consent.” A scowl appeared on Dutch's face.

Arthur couldn't believe his ears when Dutch's words made John chuckle. The man was being far too brazen for his own good. A trait he never had associated with John, who was this man? Had John kept his true self, a more assertive self hidden all this time? Perhaps his relationship with Abigail had pacified him.

“First off, I ain't interested in,“ John waved towards Arthur, “none of that.”

“Secondly, with all due respect Dutch, I don't need your consent when it comes to who I be sharing a bed with.” John leaned back against the door, his hands rested in his pockets.

Arthur's mouth was agape. Who the fuck is this man and what happened to little Johnny Marston?

“Arthur is mine,” Dutch growled. His hand dashed for Arthur's hair to grab a fistful of it. 

Arthur closed his eyes, Dutch's innate possessiveness stirred his arousal, but with John in the room he felt conflicted. Both men _owned_ him to a certain degree, and with both of them present it almost felt as if he betrayed one if he was aroused by the other.

“Sure is.” John said.

“Arthur told me you _touched_ him, jerked him off even.” Dutch's expression darkened.

“Oh. Yeah eh, we did that a long time ago.” John rubbed the back of his head.

“Look at me.” Dutch, still holding on to Arthur's hair, shook it.

Arthur swallowed, opened his eyes when Dutch indicated he spoke to him.

“You,” Dutch pointed at John, “not a word.” He then stared down at Arthur, “and you, tell me when this happened, you will whisper it.” Dutch leaned in closer to Arthur's mouth.

Shit, clever bastard. They were fucked now. In the corner of his eye he saw John scratch his jaw, what was unusual is that he did so awkwardly with three fingers. A hint, but was it three months or three weeks? Months would make more sense, Dutch and he were barely a thing back then. Fifty-fifty chance to get it wrong.

“Three months ago.” He whispered into Dutch's ear, the man straightened himself immediately, eyes now on John.

“Shit Dutch, was a long time ago, I ain't too sure no more, maybe like three months ago?” John shrugged his shoulders.

Dutch's narrowed eyes darted between Arthur and John.

In-out, in-out. He counted two seconds between every breath. Now more than ever was the time to remain calm and collected. Shouldn't be a problem considering he was a professional thief. It was actually a huge problem whenever Dutch's eyes bored into his skull, as they were doing in this very moment. At least the man had let go of his hair.

“Yet you specifically stated you weren't into men.”

John shrugged, “Things with Abigail weren't going so well, we was drunk that evening, tried it, didn't like it, that was that.”

“Arthur?” Dutch stated down at him.

“It's true.” He gave the words his best possible effort to make them sound as genuine as possible. In-out, two seconds, you can do this, don't show him how nervous you are.

“Hm.” Dutch grunted.

“We done then?” John seemed ready to leave.

“No. Take that chair, sit down where you're standing.” Dutch started to untie one of Arthur's legs, then the other while John reluctantly dragged a chair over towards the door.

It was harder to control his breathing now that Dutch went into his unpredictable mood. John seemed equally as confused. When his legs were freed, Dutch kept them spread out, then crawled on the bed and sat on his knees in between them.

“I'm going to show you who he belongs to John.” Dutch snarled towards Arthur. His hand already scooped up a copious amount of lube from the small tin.

“Dutch come on, I ain't interested in your possessive games.” John let out an exasperated sigh.

“You will watch me take him, and pay attention to every single detail in his face as I do so. You will remember those details, remember how he acts and reacts when I'm inside of him.”

Arthur exhaled every last bit of air inside of him. He knew Dutch was possessive, they all knew. But to see him like this, that had been a first, he had no idea how hot Dutch's darker side really was.

“Is that clear?” Dutch continued.

“What if I leave right now?” John tested.

“Then I'll assume you disagree that he belongs to me, for which there will be consequences.” Dutch turned his head towards John.

John rolled his eyes, sat down with the heaviest of sighs.

“And you...” Dutch had a firm grip on Arthur's jaw, his lubed up hand already prodded at Arthur's anus with two of its fingers. “You will keep your eyes on him, so he can see what I do to you, understood?”

Arthur nodded as much as Dutch's tight grip allowed him to. As soon as he had done that, the man forced his head to turn towards John, manhandled him like he was nothing more than a toy. Dutch pushed two fingers inside of him, it prompted his urge to look at his mentor, wanted their eyes to be locked onto each other.

“No.” Dutch quickly corrected when Arthur side-glanced towards him. 

Arthur whimpered when the fingers withdrew. Usually Dutch would twist and scissor them around until he hit that sweet spot inside of him, not this time. The man had already gotten to the part where he stroked himself to harden up. It made Arthur tug against the ropes around his wrists, the eagerness to join in and stroke himself. At first he was surprised his own cock had responded with John being present in the room. Dutch being possessive aroused him a great deal, but it shouldn't have gotten him as painfully hard as he was. Perhaps the small scowl he saw on the younger man's face was what did it for him. It meant that not one but two men desired to take possession of him, to own him.

“Ungh!” He was lost now, the mind had joined it's body in a lustful embrace.

“See that John?” Dutch lifted one of Arthur's legs up, the one which would give John the best view of what he was about to do. He then guided his cock past Arthur's sphincter, grinned when it elicited a series of quiet moans from the burly outlaw. “See how he lusts for me.”

“Hmm hmm.” John crossed his arms.

Dutch leaned forward, planted his hands on either side of Arthur's shoulders, their faces almost touching.

“I know you're lying to me boy.” Dutch whispered for only Arthur to hear. His teeth grit together as he thrust his hips forward and buried himself deep inside of him.

Arthur's eyes widened when Dutch pressed against that sweet spot inside of him, his moan louder than he wanted. His eyes then closed, Dutch had to be bluffing, a test to see if he'd reveal anything more while his mind was in a haze.

“Eyes open, you will keep looking at him while I fuck your brains out.” Dutch snarled, he pulled back, thrust forward again, fast, hard. There was no love, no care. Only a primal urge to show dominance.

“Sh-shit Dutch.” It was hard to comply, he wanted to either keep them closed or locked on Dutch, not John, just Dutch.

“Yeah, like that don't you?” Dutch gruffly said as he pulled back.

“Y-yes, I-” His sentence was cut short by another loud moan when Dutch pushed back in. His eyes now on John, hard as it was to focus. The man seemed extremely displeased with Dutch's show of power. If the reason for that was because of Dutch's insistence that he'd watch, or out of jealousy was impossible to tell. At least not with Dutch buried so deeply inside of him, or with his lips now against his shoulder. At first his mentor sniffed him, then he hissed when Dutch's teeth sank into his flesh.

He was being marked.

His reaction must have been predictable because a hand rushed to cover his mouth, muffled his desire filled outcry. The one thing he did realize was that John hadn't looked away, he could easily do so, Dutch had no eyes for him, but he hadn't. If anything he seemed transfixed by the display Dutch had set up up for him.

“Hmmmgff!” Arthur's back arched when Dutch used his teeth to mark another spot along his collar bone. His eyes quickly lost focus of John's form, the whole room molded into one big blur as his thick red cock painfully throbbed. All he could concentrate on was how full Dutch made him feel.

“Tell Mr. Marston who you belong to.” Dutch's hips started to gain more momentum, his hand slipped in between their bodies, rough fingers closed around Arthur's cock. He no longer clamped his mouth shut, the hand now flat on the bed for support as he brought himself closer to filling up that tight ass.

Orders be damned, he _had_ to look at Dutch now that there was a chance he'd be allowed to have his own release. “Y-you.” He panted.

“Tell. Him.” Dutch emphasized every word with a deep and dangerous tone. Cock fully buried inside of Arthur, but his hips remained motionless. One hand tugged on Arthur's shaft, gripped it firmly, his free hand forced his boy's head back towards John.

“D-Dutch, I b- ah, belong to Dutch.” He breathed heavily, being kept on the edge for so long, being denied his release so many times ever since he entered Dutch's room last night. All that was about to end, Dutch must have known as much when Arthur's ass squeezed around his cock.

“You don't come until I say so.” Dutch ordered, he removed his fingers from Arthur's shaft, steadied himself so he could focus on his short, hard thrusts. He panted, face contorted like that of an animal, eyes wild, teeth bared.

“Sh-shit Dutch, I-I can't.” The words were hard to utter with how quick he breathed. He tried so hard to hold back, didn't want to disappoint Dutch. Dutch who had now been reduced to a series of growls from deep inside his throat. Arthur had to close his eyes, he couldn't stare at the man anymore, no matter how much he wanted to. The man's predatory stare alone would be enough to push him over the edge.

“That's it, say my name again.”

“D-Dutch, fuck. Dutch please.” He begged, close to tears from the denial he had to force upon himself.

He felt the bed shift, Dutch's breath now hot against his ear. A hand gripped his chin, turned him towards where he knew John to be. His eyes opened again, this was what Dutch would want, so he did it. A hum of approval vibrated against his eardrum.

Dutch was pleased.

“Come for daddy.” Dutch whispered, his back on Arthur's cock, it worked fast, now slick with pre-cum.

The words had barely left Dutch's mouth when he clamped Arthur's shut. Just in time to keep what had otherwise been heard all across the camp at least somewhat contained.

Arthur's whole world exploded into a million stars. He must have clenched his ass real good because it sounded like Dutch was right there with him as the man rode out a powerful wave of his own.

“Mine.” Dutch breathed, his hand still stroked Arthur while he remained buried deep inside of him. He finally pulled out after he felt satisfied with every drop he managed to get out of Arthur's now soft cock.

“Was the message clear?” Dutch got to his feet and cleaned himself.

“Yes.” John replied with a crack in his voice. One so obvious it hastily made him clear his throat.

“Then get out.” Dutch pulled his pants up. It wasn't until John's hand was on the doorknob that he spoke again. “And find someone else to do this _job_ with you, understood?”

“Yes Dutch.” John huffed before he left.

Their whole exchange had barely registered in Arthur's mind while he stared up at the ceiling, his heart still vigorously pumped blood around his system. He was vaguely aware of Dutch's presence as the man moved around the room, but his words hadn't registered. Arthur's eyelids grew heavy, he felt the collar around his neck loosen, wanted to thank Dutch, but his body had other ideas. 

~~~

Arthur slowly opened his eyes, brows pulled together as his eyes slowly danced around the room. The sun was much lower in the sky, that was the first thing he noticed. He was still naked, still on Dutch's bed, but his hands were free. 

“Dutch?” He called out, sat up with a groan, stiff muscles protested against the change of position. He was alone in the room, glanced down when something slid off his chest and into his lap.

A note.

He blinked a few times until his eyes gained enough focus to decipher Dutch's handwriting.

_Get yourself cleaned up. Be in my room at 7 sharp, then we'll discuss what's been on your mind.  
PS: You will now ask permission for every job which involves John, no exceptions._

_Dutch_

Arthur crumpled the note in his hand, tossed it across the room. Dutch knew they lied.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello you lovely people!
> 
> I hope the first encounter between the trio wasn't too disappointing, I know expectations often vary from reality. This is absolutely not the end of their encounters. Arthur assumes that Dutch knows, but that may not be the case.
> 
> Also next week will be *extremely* busy for me, so I'm not sure if I can get chapter 13 out in time, I apologize in advance for that! :(
> 
> As always, thank you for being wonderful and giving this story a chance.


	13. Chapter 13

Arthur's body briefly bounced after he let himself fall face first on top of his bed. He was tired, more than that even.

Exhausted.

His ass wasn't all too pleased neither. Dutch had pounded him earlier, pounded him hard during his little demonstration for John. He rolled his eyes and sighed. How the hell had he ended up in such a weird position between those two. At no point were either Dutch nor John capable of taking him on in a fight, not even in a two on one. Yet both men had a tremendous amount of power over both his body and mind. Their words, possessiveness, the authority which lingered around them, it had intoxicated him. It brought him down to his knees and he loved every moment of it. Even being trapped between the two, being secretive with John behind Dutch's back.

He closed his eyes, felt himself drift off fairly fast.

“Shit.” He mumbled, Dutch wanted him there at seven, if he fell asleep now there was a chance he'd be late. Dutch would have a serious fit. He pushed himself up after an exhausted sigh.

A quick hunt, he'd have time for that, ride out for an hour or two, hopefully find something to shoot and be back in time for dinner with Dutch. Arthur groaned when he sat on the edge of the bed to put his boots on.

Ouch.

If the soft mattress felt uncomfortable for his ass, a saddle would be a definite 'no.' On foot then. There were a few turkeys who roamed in the forest not far from here, not the best catch, but still a catch.

Down the stairs he went, over to his horse to retrieve the varmint rifle from her tack.

“Where do you think you're going?”

Dammit. Of course Dutch had been watching him. Stalked him like a big cat, hidden in some bush, ready to pounce.

“Hunting, won't be long.” He mumbled, back turned towards Dutch.

“I think not. Put that rifle back.” Dutch ordered.

“And why the hell not?” Arthur turned to face the man, slung the rifles strap over his shoulder.

“I don't need to explain myself to you. You are told to stay, so stay you shall. Without question” Dutch's eyes narrowed.

“I ain't going further than the forest east of here. Shoot a turkey or two and I'll be back.”

“Arthur.” Dutch put a lot of emphasis on the name.

“Just get off my back will ya, John's in the camp, keep an eye on him if that's what you're so worried about.” Arthur wasn't going to wait for a response, stormed off past Dutch, who to his surprise, hadn't called after him.

Like hell was he going to kept in camp. He enjoyed the outdoors, the noises of the forests and it's inhabitants. Not the daily arguments and whatnot around camp. He'd deal with Dutch later, pretend to listen to whatever speech about lack of respect the man would surely already have prepared.

“Why must you always question me?” Arthur mockingly repeated as he walked through the woods.

“I know what's best for you.” He continued to mimic Dutch's voice.

Arthur walked for another ten or so minutes, already he heard a not so distant gobble and immediately readied his rifle.

“You're welcome for that food on your plate, Dutch.” He quietly grumbled, rifle aimed as he searched the foliage for his target.

Click.

Arthur froze at the sound of a revolver's hammer being cocked behind him. His mind raced. He'd been so absorbed in thought that he allowed himself to be bushwhacked. Pinkerton's aren't this silent. A very skilled bounty hunter? A robber?

“Don't shoot.” Arthur said as calmly as he could. He slowly spread his arms, still held on to the rifle with one hand, could be used as a club if needed. Now that he payed attention, he heard the soft footstep, followed by another. How many more were hidden around him?

His attacker stood close, if the gun was in their right hand he could swing around fast enough, possibly duck down and la-

“Mmmpffh!” A large hand clamped his mouth shut, another snaked around his neck in a choke hold, not tight enough to strangle him. He was about to fight back when it dawned on him that the hand had a familiar smell of pomade and expensive bourbon. On top of that he could feel the cold metal of a set of rings against his face.

Dutch.

Bastard really was as quiet as a cougar. He could break free, easily, he knew that, Dutch probably knew that too. But the man breathed against his ear, and now that he was so close it was easy to smell all of him, that delicious cigar scented musk of his.

“Mho uhhm” 'Not funny,' he mumbled against the hand, annoyed about being afraid he was in serious trouble. No response came. The arm around his neck slowly moved, until Dutch's hand wrapped around his neck and squeezed ever so slightly. The pressure not at all strong enough to cause him any discomfort.

The hell was Dutch doing? Outside, so close to camp. The hand around his neck moved downwards, stopped when it rested against his chest. Two fingers slipped sideways into his shirt, until they could pinch his nipple in between them.

“Mmhhh!” His hiss was muffled, back briefly arched but the hand against his mouth kept him in place.

“You disobeyed me,” Dutch whispered. His fingers retreated from Arthur's nipple to undo a few buttons of the man's shirt.

“Mmff!” It was hard to not moan when three of Dutch's fingers took hold of his nipple, even harder to not have his cock respond to this.

“Do you think it's wise to do that?” Dutch asked. He tugged on Arthur's nipple before he pinched it to help emphasize his question.

Arthur shook his head. The only choice he had, to pull free and walk away, was slowly being drained from him as he melted against Dutch's touch and smell.

“I'll give you a choice my boy. You walk home, go to my room and wait for me there. Or I bend you over right here and punish you now.”

“Mmhhh.” Arthur moaned. Dutch's proximity, his gravelly voice, the hand which now snaked even further down to grope him through his pants. It was too good, too hot, drained the blood from his brain to feed his hardening cock.

“Move that beautiful, unruly body of yours.” Dutch whispered. He squeezed Arthur's groin before he fully let go of the man and stepped back.

Arthur turned around to face him, he wanted to complain, to tell Dutch it was not okay to frighten him like that. But shit was he hard, he didn't have to look down to know that his cock formed a tent in his pants. He couldn't even piece together a sentence to put Dutch in his place. 

Go to his room, get rewarded for obedience, like earlier, when Dutch had you in his mouth. Crap, if he wasn't careful he'd start leaking through his pants, not good. He knew he had to go before it got worse, which it would if he continued to stare at Dutch's rigid posture.

“Oh and Arthur.” Dutch called after him, “I want the table set and ready for us by the time I get back.”

Arthur stopped for a moment, still lacked the ability to protest, so he continued forward. Fifteen minutes later he was back at the outer edge of their camp, returned his rifle to his horses' tack. Grateful that his hard on had subsided in time.

“Not like you to come back empty handed.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed. “Do some work instead of spying on me, Micah.”

“Oh I'm working alright. Boss coming soon or did you kill him to take his place?”

“What did you just say?!” Arthur spun around to face him. Lips set in a tight line, eyes narrowed, teeth bared. Bastard leaned against a tree. His hat was lowered enough so it's brim covered his beady eyes, knife in one hand, sharpening tool in the other.

“Saw him follow you after you failed to do as he says, _yet again_. Now you're here alone, just concerned for the boss' well being is all.” Micah drawled.

It was absolutely impossible for him to get physical with Dutch. He always found it to be the best way to deal with his frustrations, right now he itched for a good brawl. Unlike Dutch, Micah, that bastard, was fair game. In the blink of an eye he had closed the distance between them, one hand wrapped around the man's neck. The other grabbed hold of his wrist in case Micah got it in his head to stab him with that knife of his.

“You forgetting who yous talking to?!” He snarled.

Micah chuckled, a lopsided grin appeared on his face. “What do you think Dutch'll say when he finds out you beat me up 'cause I was concerned for him?”

Arthur's fingers tightened around Micah's neck, until the bastard let out a strangled gurgle. Micah was right, Dutch would give him hell for that.

Arthur let go of him, he had to.

Micah coughed, rubbed his throat. Somehow he still managed to grin throughout all of it.

“Atta boy.” Micah said, eyes locked with Arthur's.

“Arthur!” John called out from across the camp.

Shit.

He wasn't done, didn't want to be the first to back out of the intense stare between them.

“Interesting.” Micah said.

Arthur frowned, had there been hesitation in his eyes? A second of doubt easily spotted by a far too observant bastard like Micah.

“Arthur!” John repeated his name, this time louder.

Micah side glanced in John's direction. Knowing him, Arthur figured that the man found something which compelled him more than being the one who came out on top in a stare down. 

Not good.

At least he could leave, give John an earful for being the one who started a whole new page of problems for them.

“What?!” He said, agitated and louder than intended once he stood in front of John.

John lowered the hatchet in his hand. One of his eyes twitched, so brief that one would have missed it if they blinked.

Arthur hadn't missed it, swallowed before he spoke with a lower voice. “Need me?” Better, he thought when John straightened up, the man's lips momentarily curled upward. Another small physical change, again barely noticeable.

“Where's Dutch? Saw you leave together.” John's eyes were now on the horses, the direction Dutch would come from.

Christ, had everyone spied on them? “He won't be long, I eh, I'm supposed to be in his room.”

“Does he know?” John whispered.

“Think so.” Arthur mimicked the whispered tone.

“We'll deal with you spilling the beans later. Go.” John lifted the hatchet, continued to chop wood.

Arthur left without hesitation, so much for giving John an earful. Deal with him later, what did that even mean?

“Not now.” He snarled at his groin. Why was he always so turned on by even the slightest thing? It had to be some sort of sickness, he should go see a doctor and get it fixed.

_'That's right doc, I get hard from words alone, all day, every day. I'm so messed up that I get hard from being treated like a beast, being bound and controlled by men I could easily force into submission if I wanted to.'_

Shit. No way in hell could he tell any doctor that and not crawl into a grave and bury himself in shame.

Arthur carried what he needed up to Dutch's room. Cutlery, plates, glasses and all. The table was set and ready, everything positioned correctly, just like Hosea had taught him.

He hung his satchel over a chair, fished out a cigarette and lit it on his way to the balcony. He spotted Dutch in the distance, near their horses, with Micah stood next to him. Bastard probably ratted him out already, shouldn't matter, he hadn't hit him, Dutch wouldn't care, shouldn't care.

Dutch patted the man on his shoulder, Arthur could see the face wide grin on Micah's punch-able face. What had Micah done to deserve praise from Dutch? He couldn't even remember the last time Dutch had done anything like that to him outside of anything sexual. But Micah... Micah always got a shoulder pat here, a job well done there.

Arthur took a long drag from his cigarette, then tossed it away. His gaze was stuck on Dutch as the man approached the building. Unfair is what it was. He worked so hard, always came back with the most money, but Dutch took everything he did for granted. Never a, 'well done, my boy' from Dutch. No, the only time he ever got any praise was if he got Dutch's cock hard.

The hell was so special about Micah?

Arthur's gaze shifted towards Micah when Dutch left his line of sight. Of course the bastard looked right at him. Of course he halfheartedly waived to taunt him. Arthur's hands balled up into fists, eyes narrowed.

“Arthur.” Dutch closed the door behind him.

Deep breath, don't lash out, you're in enough trouble as it is.

“Dutch.” He turned around, forced a smile out.

“What's gotten into you?” Dutch glanced at him for no longer than a second as he removed his coat.

Arthur raised his brows, he wasn't _that_ easy to read was he?

“Answer me when I ask you a question.” Dutch draped his coat over the chair opposite of the one Arthur's satchel hung from.

“What did Micah want?” Arthur asked.

“Nothing which should be of any concern to you.” Dutch undid his cufflinks, slowly rolled his sleeves up.

Arthur grit his teeth together, his face felt hot as hell.

“Either we discuss business or you have your temper tantrum. One or the other, Arthur.” Dutch brought a bottle of bourbon to the table, pulled his chair back and sat down.

“Why don't you discuss that business with Micah? Take him out to be groped by that rich bastard.”

“Micah's body is nowhere close to yours, and Henry is only interested in you.” Dutch filled each of their glasses.

“So is that all I am to you? A body to be sold out, like some harlot.”

“Arthur?!” Dutch was taken aback, “of course not.” Dutch stood up, positioned himself behind Arthur.

“Then what am I to you?” He didn't move when Dutch's arms wrapped around his waist

“In our line of work it's important that we utilize everything we have in order to survive.” Dutch rested his chin on top of Arthur's shoulder.

“I _have_ a good shooting arm, you stopped me from _utilizing_ that.” Arthur complained.

“My boy. We can't have you out there right now, you could get hurt. We need you to look perfect so we can walk away with a lot of money.”

“Right, 'cause hunting turkey is fraught with danger.” Arthur scoffed.

“With you it's as dangerous as sitting at a pond.” One of Dutch's hands went up to Arthur's jaw, it's thumb stroked across the almost faded bruise.

“What were you and John talking about?” Both of Dutch's arms wrapped around Arthur's waist again, pulled him closer.

“What?” Arthur swallowed.

“Mr. Bell informed me.”

Oh.

“Nothing.” So that's what that rat bastard had been so smug about.

“You were called over to discuss _nothing_?”

“Fine. It's none of your damned business,” Arthur spat. Two could play that game.

“ _Everything_ about you is my business.” Dutch's hand firmly grasped Arthur's jaw, he turned it sideways so the man's ear was close to his mouth.

Arthur swallowed deeply, closed his eyes. It wouldn't take long for his lust to get the better of him. He tried to resist it, tried to ignore how Dutch's hot breath brushed against his ear.

Tried and failed.

“What you eat... drink. Where you go outside of camp, or sleep. Who you talk to, who you rob or shoot.” Dutch deliberately spoke low and slow, ensured that not a single word would be missed. 

“It's _all_ my god damned business,” Dutch continued.

“I decide when you deserve pleasure.” Dutch lowered the arm which was still wrapped around Arthur's middle. Lower and lower until his hand was able to apply a moderate amount of pressure against Arthur's groin.

Arthur stifled a moan.

“Or punishment.” 

“Augh!” Arthur flinched when Dutch squeezed his balls. 

You. Are. _Mine_.” Every word Dutch emphasized was accompanied by a low growl, the last one in particular.

“So... my boy, my beautiful boy. If you disagree with any of that.” Dutch stepped back. “There's the door.” He held his arm out towards it.

Arthur had to lean against the table as soon as Dutch's body was no longer pressed against his. His legs felt weak, mind a bit hazy. Cock slightly- very much erect. He kept his head lowered but glanced up at the door. He had a choice, the same choice which was always there. He knew what he'd pick between Dutch and the door, Dutch knew as well. He was in too deep, experienced too much pleasure at the hands of Dutch, of course he couldn't turn his back on that.

Too far gone, too mind-sick to deny himself the life of depravity which he craved.

“I'm yours.” Arthur whispered, eyes now closed. He couldn't stare at that door for another second. Not while it taunted him. The only object which stood in his way to prove to himself and everyone else that there wasn't anything wrong with him. That he was as much of an alpha male as all the others in camp.

The wooden floor creaked under Dutch's weight as the man stepped closer to him. Arthur straightened up immediately, back still turned to him. Dutch's arms wrapped around his waist, pulled him closer. He could feel the man's bulge as it pressed against his ass.

“Hmm, that's my boy.” Dutch murmured, “need you by my side. Are you on my side, Arthur?”

“Always,” Arthur breathed. His head tilted backward when Dutch's hand slipped into his pants.

“You'll do anything for me, won't you?” Dutch's hand found what it wanted; Arthur's semi erect cock. He tugged on it, shifted it upward until it was tucked between Arthur's belly and the waistband of his pants.

“Y-yes.” Arthur moaned when Dutch spat in his hand, slick fingers gripped the top of his shaft, then slowly slid down, up to the point where his waistband was.

“Say it for me.” Dutch commanded with a throaty voice.

“Any... I'll do anything y-you want.” A promise which would surely land him in some form of trouble. One made because his body was being used against him by someone far more experienced than he was.

“That's it. Let daddy take care of you,” Dutch whispered. The padding of his fingers glided up and down Arthur's shaft. His free hand undid the buttons of Arthur's suspenders, pushed his pants down so he had easy access to all of him.

“Yes please.” He had his eyes closed, moaned when Dutch spat in his hand again. A much louder noise escaped from his throat when not one, but two hands wrapped around his shaft.

“Oh shit, Dutch.” He panted when each hand twisted around his shaft in opposite directions, it felt like more than one person worked to pleasure him. He had to lean forward, rest his hands on top of the table for support, this pushed his ass out, even harder against Dutch's own erection. The hands slowly moved up and down in perfect rhythm.

“You will be the one to distract Mr. Fornsworth at our next get together, which is tomorrow evening.” Dutch said.

“W-wha business talk, n-now?” His mouth remained agape when Dutch's strokes sped up.

“Sssh. I want you to listen and feel, nothing else.” One of Dutch's hands went further than the base of Arthur's cock, they brushed over his balls, gently cupped them.

Arthur nodded, didn't think he was capable of much more when Dutch moved his balls around in that large hand of his.

“Do whatever you must to keep him in his room," Dutch continued.

Something about a room. That's all he heard. Arthur couldn't understand how Dutch expected him to concentrate on anything but the hand which lingered at the base of his shaft, or the other one which rolled his balls around with it's fingers.

"When the deed is done, I will come and get you, is that clear?”

“S-sure.” He had no idea what Dutch wanted from him, the words hadn't made much sense. What mattered was how close he was, how much he needed to be milked dry while Dutch expressed how much he controlled him.

“Hold it in, boy.”

Arthur practically sobbed when he heard the order. He should have known Dutch wouldn't let him come until it was clear to the man that he had gotten what he wanted.

“Repeat what you have to do.” Dutch demanded.

“S-something d-distracting.” Arthur stammered, out of breath, out of blood where it was needed.

“Argh!” He grunted when his balls were squeezed a bit too hard.

“Try again.” Dutch spoke through grit teeth.

“D-distract him...” Arthur tried to focus to the best of ability, to remember the words he heard during an intense moment of pleasure.

“K-keep him in his r-room.” He was being stroked again, slowly, must be saying what Dutch wanted to hear.

“U-until...” He paused for a loud moan, tethered so close to the edge of release.

“Until what?” Dutch rested his thumb on the tip of Arthur's cock, rubbed it around in circles as Arthur's pre-cum oozed out of it.

“U-until...” Shit, what was it? He whimpered when Dutch's hands went motionless once more. He _had_ to remember.

“Until y-you come and g-get me?” That was it, made all the more clear by both hands being on his shaft again, they stroked him in varying directions, a perfect grip on his shaft, not too lose, not too tight. It was too much.

“Good, very good.” Dutch cooed, “Do you deserve to come?”

Arthur hesitated for a moment. “Only when y-you allow me to,” he panted.

“Perfect.” Dutch whispered the word in the most content manner Arthur had ever heard him say anything.

“P-please, I need to... I can't.” He really had to fight against his own orgasm, the knowledge that he pleased Dutch this much threatened to mess up what little control he still managed to have.

“Come for me.” Dutch ordered as he rapidly moved one hand up to cover Arthur's mouth.

“Mrrrrrgggh!!” Arthur outcry was partially muffled, his growl too throaty for it to truly be silenced. His nose was then pinched shut to quiet him down further. It worked, silenced him much more effectively, but at the same time it made him explode ten times harder. Strands of his cum shot out in bursts, against the table, on top of it, all over the place. 

“Look at you, so beautiful.” Dutch's hand continued to move up and down Arthur's shaft until nothing more leaked out.

“Hmm.” Arthur quietly moaned, the hand against his face now gone. His legs felt wobbly, thankfully Dutch draped both arms around him, stood him up straight and held him in a tight embrace.

“Don't know what I'd do without you.” Dutch planted a kiss on Arthur's neck.

Arthur mumbled something incoherent. All the muscles in his body felt like they were made of pudding as he still worked to catch his breath.

“It's time for some food.” Dutch planted one last kiss against the same spot before he let go. “Clean yourself up.”

Arthur did as told, his mind still in a post orgasmic haze. While he cleaned himself, Dutch unwrapped a burlap sack. Inside of it was a vast assortment of cheeses, dried meats, fruits and neatly sliced bread. No doubt he selected the items to match his love for bourbon. Dutch always hand picked the best food they had for himself. His meals much more lavish that the rest of them who were stuck with Pearson's venison stew every day of the week. 

Arthur watched as Dutch neatly arranged the items, his stomach growled at the sight of it. He pulled his pants up, went over to his chair and pulled it back so he could sit.

“What do you think you're doing?” Dutch asked without any eye contact.

“Uh.” Arthur frowned, wasn't the whole point for them to have dinner together?

“Earlier on. What did you do wrong?” Dutch's eyes slowly moved up until they met Arthur's bewildered stare.

“Disobeyed you.” Arthur mumbled, reluctantly shoved the chair back under the table.

“Speak clearly.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “You told me to stay, I disobeyed you.”

“That's right. What does mean for you?”

“That I don't get to eat here.” Arthur mumbled once more, the idea of something other than stew now being just that, an idea.

“What kind of host would I be if I were to send you away with an empty stomach?” Dutch lowered his pants, stepped out of them and sat down, legs spread.

Arthur raised his brows at him.

“On your knees, under the table. Make that pretty mouth of yours do something other than saying no to me.” Dutch set the plate with bits of Arthur's cum aside, grabbed the other one and filled it with some items of his choosing.

Arthur grumbled as he crawled under the narrow table. The top of his head brushed against it's underside when he manoeuvred Dutch's cock to his mouth.

“You'll be sleeping in my room tonight.” Dutch held his words back until Arthur had him in his mouth.

“Mhh mhh.” Arthur mumbled in agreement.

“I need to keep an eye on you. This job needs to go perfect, there's a lot to gain here, thousands upon thousands.” Dutch spoke past a mouthful of food.

“Mhh mmh.” He repeated the same noise, knew that Dutch wanted this to be a one sided conversation. So much for talking business, he thought. Could he really blame Dutch? Sure the man knew exactly how to get him pliant. But at the end of the day, it was his fault for being such a slave to his own cock.

“Put some effort into it boy. Do a good job and you can have some of this when you're done.” Dutch chewed between his words.

Arthur moaned against Dutch's cock, felt a tingle in his own, a chance to please Dutch and get rewarded for it. Oh, how he craved to get exactly that.

Definitely a slave to his own cock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile, longer than planned, so sorry for that.
> 
> I have a question for you, my wonderful readers. Not the next chapter but shortly after, I have a non-con bit in mind. The story is not tagged as non-con and I could keep it as such.
> 
> So here's my question: Do I add the non-con tag to the story and a TW at the start of said chapter?  
> Or: Should I write the non-con bit in an entirely separate story and turn this into a series? Keeping this one consensual and the other very much not?  
> I would just time skip in this one, with maybe a brief mention of the events which transpired, and an authors note that another story tells the whole tale. ( more than likely I'll not mention it in this one at all.)
> 
> Whereas the other one would continue from whichever chapter of this one, preceded it.
> 
> Personally I would prefer to just add it to this one (makes it less complicated), but I have no idea if you as a reader would feel "betrayed" of sorts if the non-con tag suddenly appears on a story you've been following without said tags.
> 
> Please let me know! I value your feedback so much! ( sorry again for the slow update )


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: tiny amount of non-con

"Why is he coming?" Arthur side-glanced at Micah, who idly sat on top of his horse.

"It's a three man job." Dutch mounted his own horse.

"We're fine without him." Arthur squeezed his legs together, spurred his horse onward behind John.

"Fornsworth's mansion has more than a few guards." Dutch rode up next to him.

"You still haven't explained to me what exactly the _plan_ is."

"All you gotta do is look pretty, princess. While the rest of us do the real work." Micah grinned.

Arthur rotated his body, glared at Micah, then turned back towards Dutch.

" _Why_ is he coming?" Arthur repeated.

"Do not question my decisions." Dutch rebuked.

"As per my instructions, John scooped the place out during our last visit. Henry has a safe in his upstairs office. That is our goal."

"A safe? I thought you said we stood to gain thousands." Arthur said.

"A man who can readily afford to pay over five hundred for-" Dutch eyed Arthur up and down before he continued, "-certain services, must have thousands in there."

"Who knew your best skill would be to whore yourself out." Micah said none too quietly.

"Micah... I swear." Arthur said through grit teeth. His hand moved to rest on the grip of his pistol.

"Arthur, control your temper." Dutch chided.

"But he-" Arthur's mouth snapped shut when Dutch's eyes narrowed at him. Of course God damned Micah was allowed to taunt him.

"While you remain with Henry, keep him busy so he does not wander upstairs. Micah and I will make our way back in, past the guards and into his office. We shall clean the safe out and then I'll be back to retrieve you." Dutch explained. 

"John will be outside in the unlikely event that something goes amiss." Dutch continued.

"I don't like this, that man is more dangerous than you give him credit for."

"Same old Morgan, always doubting, always questioning the boss." Micah drawled.

"Thank you Mr. Bell." Dutch said.

"Thank you Mr. Bell." Arthur mockingly repeated.

"Act your age, boy." Dutch spurred his horse onwards.

"We should've brought a dress for a pretty little thing like you." Micah rode up next to him.

"Dutch, either he goes home or I do." Arthur said.

"Micah is the only one capable of cracking a safe, since you'll be occupied elsewhere." Dutch stared ahead as he spoke.

"I'm going to beat the hell out of you when this is over." Arthur growled at Micah before he sped his horse up.

"Can't wait!" Micah shouted after him.

~~~

A few hours later the trio arrived in at the outer edge of Saint-Denis and made their way along the lengthy path towards the mansion.

"Geez, his land has enough space for two ranches." John pointed out.

“Something for you to aspire to, Johnny boy.” Arthur said.

“Least I got something planned.” John retorted.

“Dreams don't usually make good plans.” Arthur was quick to say.

“Why don't you put a sock in it Arthur?” John snapped.

“Two lovers going at it, my heart melts.” Micah interjected.

“That rock in your chest don't count as no heart.” Arthur spat.

“Enough, all of you.” Dutch rode to the front.

"Micah, leave your horse. Wait for me around the back. John, they know you so you can wait at the front. Arthur and I will head inside." Dutch waited for everyone to show they understood, then lead the way to the frontside of the mansion.

They were greeted by one of many servants, lead down an all to familiar staircase, past a now empty party room to the door of Henry's 'playroom.' which the servant opened for the pair.

"Gentlemen! How delightful to see you." Henry greeted them, wore a fancy looking red robe. The first time they saw him dressed so casually. "I trust you had a safe trip?"

"Of course." Dutch smiled, his hand rested against Arthur's back, gently urged him forward.

"May I take your coat, sir?" Samuel walked up to Arthur, not naked for a change.

"Sure." Arthur handed it to him, didn't like how restrictive the fancy garments felt.

Henry fished around in his pocket, pulled a stack of money out and handed it to Dutch who immediately started counting.

"Four hundred for two hours, as per our agreement. Your boy does not come cheap." Henry's gaze wandered over Arthur's body.

"He's well worth it." Dutch pocketed the money.

"Quite. I'll triple the price if you let me take him from behind." Henry offered.

"No. That part belongs to me and me alone." Dutch's hand lowered down to rest on Arthur's ass.

"Pity." Henry side-glanced at Arthur.

Arthur swallowed, didn't like the glint in Henry's eyes. He made another mental note to be on his guard for any tricks.

"Very well, at this price I'd rather not waste a single minute." Henry bowed his head at Dutch. "Make yourself at home, mi casa es su casa." Henry smiled.

Arthur frowned, had no idea what that meant, he was certain Dutch didn't either. But his mentor nodded and followed the older servant out. Now he was alone in this freak room with Henry and Samuel, not that he minded being in a room with the latter. The young man looked as attractive as always.

"I've thought long and hard about how we should do this, straight to business or perhaps some casual conversation first." Henry guided Arthur over to the small table, which had some snacks and drinks laid out on top of it.

"Ain't never been one to decline a good talk." Arthur lied, he was the worst at idle conversation, but he'd do his damnedest to avoid anything else with this man.

"Drink?" Henry lifted a bottle, hovered it over an empty glass.

"I'll pass." Arthur waved his hand at it, no way in hell did he trust anything this man offered after being drugged the last time.

"So mistrusting. I suppose a man in your position must always be on high alert." Henry filled a different glass.

"Sure." Arthur said, his lack of interest in Henry evident in his voice.

"Allow me to gain your trust." Henry brought the glass to his lips and emptied the whole thing in one go.

Arthur frowned at him. Fine, so the drink wasn't drugged, the food could still be, could be any item on the table.

"See? Perfectly safe." Henry filled two glasses, took another sip of his own as he handed one to Arthur.

"Fancy him, don't you?" Henry followed Arthur's gaze.

Arthur averted his gaze from the young man who stood quietly on the opposite side of the table, hands behind his back, head lowered. He sipped his drink, Henry was too damned observant, like Dutch.

"Afraid I can't let you have him. It already pained me dearly that your leader did. But it was a necessary means to an end. After all, I would never have had these opportunities with you if it hadn't been for that." Henry said.

Arthur finished his glass as Henry droned on and on about how he had carefully planned their first meeting.

“Tell me Arthur, what does four hundred dollars for you, get me?” Henry asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Me being polite enough to not knock you out for yapping so much?”

“Ah yes. Naturally a man of your stature would think with his fists first.” Henry chuckled, stepped closer to him.

Arthur instinctively wanted to move as far away from Henry as possible. But if he resisted too much he'd risk Henry sending someone to search for Dutch, so he could complain about not getting his money's worth.

“Perhaps another drink will loosen you up?” Henry waited for Arthur to hold his glass out, then refilled it.

“Two hours ain't enough to get me drunk.” Arthur said.

“Of course not. I don't doubt that you ruffians drink whiskey as if it were water. It must take a lot to get you more pliant.” 

“Look mister. Just tell what you want from me, so we can get this over with.” Arthur sighed.

“In due time, we're just waiting.” Henry twirled his glass around, sloshed the liquid inside.

“What for?” Arthur frowned.

A lopsided grin formed on Henry's face, his eyes on the glass in Arthur's hand.

Arthur furrowed his brows, he knew what Henry implied, but the man shared the same bottle as he. Would he really drug himself?

“You're probably wondering how.” Henry made a show of refilling his own glass from the same bottle. “You predators, never good with the one muscle which matters the most.” Henry's index finger tapped against his temple.

“What did you do to me?!” Arthur wasted no time, grabbed Henry by the collar and tossed him over the table towards Samuel, who narrowly dodged being hit by his masters body.

A few plates and glasses shattered as most of the tables contents crashed down to the floor. Shards of glass crunched under Arthur's boots as he walked over to were Henry already started to crawl back up to his feet.

“Tell me you piece of shit.” Arthur lifted him, pushed him towards the wall and pinned him against it.

Henry inhaled deeply with a wide smile on his face. “So beautiful when you're angry. I can't wait.”

Arthur grabbed hold of Samuel's arm when the boy attempted to dash for the door.

Shit.

Now he had to keep them here and keep them quiet until Dutch and Micah finished their business. At least whatever it was that Henry had done to him seemed to have no effect, he felt fine. Was it a bluff?

“Go sit in the corner or I kill your boss.” He changed his grip from Henry's collar to the man's neck and squeezed. 

“M-master.” Henry wheezed, Arthur's frown prompted him to elaborate. “H-his master.”

“You're God damned crazy.” Arthur said. Henry was too smug for the situation he was in.

“Tell him to do as I say or I'll break your neck.” Arthur threatened.

Henry glanced at Samuel, nodded as much as he could past Arthur's grip.

Arthur released the boy, waited for him to sit before he grabbed hold of Henry's collar with both hands and lifted him up against the wall.

“Tell me you was bluffing.” Arthur growled.

“Do you see my pet? How absolutely stunning they are when their bodies are flexing every single muscle.” Henry side-glanced at Samuel.

“Y-yes master.” The boy quietly stammered, unlike Henry he sounded distraught.

“Don't worry my pet. I underestimated his size again. He'll be ours soon enough.”

“Not before I kill you first.” Arthur first switched one then the other hand back to Henry's neck, prepared to squeeze the life out of him. Arthur's grip loosened when Samuel audibly gasped, it made him hesitate. Don't kill, knock him out, boy didn't deserve to witness his whatever to be murdered in front of him.

A strangled noise came out of Henry's mouth as Arthur squeezed his windpipe shut, the man was slowly lowered down until his feet touched the floor again.

“G-getting h-heavy, a-am I?” Henry somehow managed to grin past the pain he must be feeling in his throat.

Arthur frowned at him, didn't even realize he had lowered the man down. His brows shot up again when Henry slowly pried Arthur's hands off his neck.

“And w-weaker.” Henry croaked, cleared his throat afterward.

Arthur's eyes widened when his leg felt weaker, Henry now had a firm grasp of his wrists. He was too late, too slow to do what he had to. He shouldn't have given a damn about that boy.

“Oh, easy now.” Henry held on to Arthur, lowered him to the floor when his legs failed to support his weight.

“Mm, agh.” Arthur mumbled, failed to form proper words.

“Afraid you won't be talking for a bit. Of course that's exactly how I prefer my predators. Especially the slightly more intelligent ones, such as yourself.” Henry cooed, brushed a hand through Arthur's hair.

Arthur did his best to glare at the man who crouched over him. Surely he'd pass out shortly, but that wouldn't stop Dutch from storming in soon and shooting the crap out of this man.

“Let's get started shall we?” Henry motioned Samuel over.

“Yes master.” Samuel immediately got to work on removing Arthur's boots, didn't seem like the first time the boy had been in this type of situation.

“Don't you worry dear boy, the drug won't knock you out. You'll be wide awake to see, hear and feel everything. Only your muscles have been affected, the best you'll be able to manage are some micro movements, nothing hindersome.” Henry informed him with a confidence that he too had done this before.

Arthur frowned, could feel a warmth against his legs but was unable to lift his head and glance down.

Henry turned his head towards Arthur's legs. “Ah yes, an unfortunate side effect of no muscle control. We'll get you cleaned up, after all, we have plenty of time.”

Not plenty of time until Dutch puts a bullet between your eyes.

Henry pulled out a pocket watch, stared at it and clicked it shut again.

“By my estimates your companions should have made it into my office by now.” Henry calmly said.

“Nggh?” Arthur made a noise equivalent to a pathetic whimper, he managed to frown. How the hell did Henry know?

“We'll let them do their thing. You see the way to truly hurt a man like Van der Linde, is to let him believe he bested you. Only then do you show him the truth and watch his world crumble in to pieces.” Henry started to casually unbutton Arthur's shirt.

“Eeegh.” Arthur's eyes widened, he glanced up towards the door, tried to call out for Dutch. His friends were in danger and there was nothing he could do to help them.

“Hmmm, so perfect.” Henry rested a hand on Arthur's bare chest. “Don't worry, they shouldn't be killed. I've informed the law to not murder anyone in my house, or at least try.”

Arthur shifted his attention back to Henry, Dutch should have listened to him. 

“Why now and not sooner you wonder?” Henry worked one of Arthur's arms out of the sleeve of his shirt.

“I thought it best to get as many of you in one go, reduce any future resistance so to say.” Henry said.

Arthur strained as much as he could, managed to clutch on to Henry's robe with a few fingers.

“Look at you, still fighting. Very admirable, very attractive.” Henry grinned, moved Arthur's arm back down to his side and worked the other one out of the sleeve it was in.

“Where was I? Oh- You see I knew I needed you in my collection on the day we met. But a man like Dutch takes great pride in his possessions. No amount of money would ever convince him to sell you.” Henry, with the help of Samuel, rolled Arthur on his side, then his belly.

Collection? Arthur whimpered could feel the cold floor as his cheek was pressed against it, the saliva which leaked out of his mouth now that gravity assisted it. He had never felt so helpless, it terrified him. The last thing to be removed were his pants, now they had him completely naked.

“There we are, now let's get you trussed up, nice and tight.” Henry mused.

“Eehhhg?” Arthur still attempted to speak, to plea for his friends. He groaned when his arms were wrenched behind him, elbows drawn painfully close together.

“I know, it's quite uncomfortable at first, but your arms will eventually grow used to it.” Henry said.

How did the man make everything sound as if drugging and stripping folk was every day business to him? He glanced upward again, towards the door, when distant gunfire could be heard.

“Sounds like the fun has started, I do hope Mr. Van der Linde survives. I want him to see that I've claimed his prize.” Henry's hands rested on Arthur's ass.

“Hurry up pet, I want him out of here before the chief of police arrives.” Henry patted Arthur's ass before his hands went away.

He felt more straps being tightened around his ankles and thighs after they were closely pulled together, then he heard the click of several padlocks. His heart sank. Any form of escape was likely impossible even after he regained control of his muscles.

“One last addition.” Henry said.

Arthur frowned when his mouth was pried open, Henry then forced something large and circular behind his front teeth and his jaw no longer closed. He groaned when the leather straps dug into the corners of his mouth, from which now even more saliva flowed.

“Haven't heard a shot in some time, seems like your companions didn't last long.” Henry pointed out.

Arthur growled, glared up at Henry. He was going to kill this man in more ways than one. He'd been trying this whole time and finally managed to somewhat flex his fingers.

“Don't worry dear boy, I'll take very good care of you. A fine specimen such as yourself deserves only the best.”

With Samuels help, Henry lifted him up to sit on his knees, they held him for a bit, to see if he could remain like that without falling over, which so far, he hadn't.

“Truly fascinating how fast your body is processing the muscle relaxant,” Henry pointed out. “Pet, check if you see any law outside.”

Samuel nodded, opened the door and stepped back immediately when the barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead.

Relief flooded Arthur at the sight of his mentor, unharmed and apparently very pissed off.

“Impossible. How did you-” Henry sounded shocked.

“Kill your men so fast? As much as I underestimated your insight, you've underestimated our ability to improvise in a pinch.” Dutch's eyes were on Arthur, no doubt to quickly ascertain what state he was in.

“It matters not, more law is on the way. Lower your weapons and I'll tell them to not shoot you on sight.” Henry sounded a lot less confident than before.

Arthur guessed the rich bastard wasn't used to not having complete control over everything and everyone. 

“Micah, watch the front. John, help Arthur.” Dutch ordered, the barrel of his gun still up against Samuel's forehead.

“Take your gun off him.” Henry said with a slight tremor in his voice.

Arthur frowned, saw something in Dutch's eyes he couldn't really put to words, couldn't think much about it either when John blocked the view he had on his mentor.

“This crap is locked.” John said.

“Give him the key.” Dutch cocked back the hammer on his revolver.

“Alright, just _stop_ pointing your gun at him, he has nothing to do with this.” Henry raised his hands in defeat.

Dutch and Henry stared at each other for a few seconds, after which he eased the hammer back in place. Dutch then grabbed hold of Samuels arm, turned him to also face Henry and the others, but his gun was now lowered.

“Thank you, I'll give your companion the keys and then you can walk away.” Henry said as he reached into his pocket.

Both Arthur and John flinched when an ear deafening shot rang out. Arthur heard a thud behind him and nothing else. Unfortunately he wasn't able to crane his neck around, it already took everything he had to prevent it from not being lolled over completely.

“No!” Samuel shouted.

“Christ Dutch.” John, still crouched, glanced over Arthur's shoulder.

“He drew on me, I had no choice.” Dutch tightened his hold on the boy, who was trying his damnedest to wriggle free as he kicked and punched the man who held him, all the while he demanded to be let go.

“Hurry up and get those keys.” Dutch snarled.

John rushed over, patted Henry down, only had two pockets to check. “You hit him in the shoulder, he ain't dead. Ain't got no keys on him.”

“Boss, we're outta time!” Micah shouted from the distance.

“Use your knife.” Dutch had enough of the boys struggles, whacked him on the head with the butt of his gun.

“My knife? It's thick leather and it's digging into his skin.” John said.

“Boss!” Another shout-out from Micah, immediately followed by the sound of a whistle, then gunfire.

“Take the boy, I'll take Arthur.” Dutch hurried to them, lifted Arthur over his shoulder while John did the same with Samuel.

“He's dead weight, ain't no good as a hostage.” John said.

“Oh he's going to be much more than a hostage.” Dutch motioned for John to follow, they made their way over to Micah who fired shot after shot out the front door with both his guns.

“I left all our horses at the back.” John said.

“Well done my boy, let's go. Micah, keep them at bay for another minute, then join us.” Dutch already made his way to the back of the mansion.

“Nice ass, Morgan!” Micah said between shots.

Arthur was beyond frustrated. Not only had he put them all in danger by allowing himself to be drugged a second time. He was now completely unable to help, worse even, he held them back being dead weight himself.

More whistles were blown near the front side of the mansion, voices got louder as several men now came up the side of the large building.

“Back gate is open.” John said.

“Bind him, quickly, stow him on your horse.” Dutch motioned at Samuel, lifted Arthur on top of his horse.

“We're taking him?” John asked.

“Don't question me John.” Dutch snarled.

John did as ordered, barely had Samuel on his horse when Micah rushed out, headed straight for his stallion.

A bullet narrowly missed Dutch's head as he mounted up. The men hurried for the back gate, encountered no resistance in the direction they headed.

“They're chasing us!” Micah pointed out.

“Split up, there's an empty cabin at Bluewater, meet up there as soon as you're in the clear.” Dutch spurred his horse onward. His Arabian easily outran anyone who attempted to pursue them, Arthur's horse, who loyally followed them, was of the same breed and kept up with them just fine.

Arthur was relieved Dutch had tied him to the saddle, at this speed he'd surely have fallen off if he wasn't. He hoped they were close, the horse still jostled him around a fair bit, was uncomfortable as hell in his belly down position. Not to mention that he was naked, at least it was dark outside.

They rode for what felt like an hour until Dutch brought his horse to a halt. It took a bit for Dutch to dismount and scope the place out. Arthur sighed when he was finally being lifted off that damned saddle and carried inside. The light of the moon did nothing for the small cabin's interior. He could barely make out the shapes of a few bear traps against the wall, a couple of chairs, a small table and a single bed on the opposite end of the stove. Dutch lowered him to sit on his knees, none too gently. Man must be angry.

Dutch pulled a chair up, sat down in front of Arthur and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“'Ugg.” Arthur tried to speak past the ring-gag in his mouth. Tried to tell Dutch that he'd been drugged, not good but better than Dutch thinking he allowed himself to be trussed up like this.

“This wasn't what I implied when I told you to keep him occupied.” Dutch groaned.

“I 'as 'ugg'.” He tried again to no avail.

Dutch opened his eyes, stared down at Arthur. He reached out and grabbed hold of Arthur's jaw, inspected him. “Interesting contraption. Is it uncomfortable?”

“Uhu.” He nodded, his jaw did feel incredibly sore.

“Good.” Dutch got up, walked over to a window and carefully glanced outside.

Arthur lowered his head and sighed. Dutch must be angrier than he feared, he really had screwed up badly. He squirmed against his restraints, frustrated as he was, sore all across his body, especially his shoulders. Now that his muscles regained most control he could truly feel how well restrained he was. Thick leather belts around his upper arms and wrists, connected to each other with a cold chain he could feel against his skin. His legs had the displeasure of being bound together in no less than three different places. Henry sure as heck was thorough.

Dutch's hand went for his gun, cocked the hammer back.

Arthur froze when he heard the click, he should be there next to Dutch, ready to defend them from any danger. Not be on his knees in some decrepit cabin with drool all over his chin.

Dutch let out a relieved sigh, seconds later Micah entered.

“Circled a few times to make sure I wasn't followed.” Micah said.

Dutch nodded. “Well done, son. We wouldn't have made it without you.” Dutch patted him on the shoulder.

Arthur's eye twitched, turned his head away when Micah glanced over at him with a grin on his face. He was glad the room was relatively dark, at least no one could see how red his face probably was.

“You're welcome, cowpoke.” Micah wandered over, ruffled Arthur's hair.

“'Uck 'oo.” Arthur spat. He hoped Micah understood exactly where he could shove his condescending attitude.

“Mind your temper, and show some respect boy, or I'll have you thank him in the only way you're good at.” Dutch threatened.

Arthur almost gagged at Dutch's words, no way in hell was he going to thank Micah, even if the bastard had been useful for once.

“I wouldn't object.” Micah said with a scowl on his face, then leaned in to whisper, “only because I know how much you'd hate it.” He patted Arthur's cheek.

Arthur jerked forward, pulled against his restraints, if his hands were free he would have throttled the shit out of him.

“That's two warnings for your temper, don't make it a third.” Dutch noted.

Arthur closed his eyes, deep breaths, don't let Micah antagonize you.

“Finally, John's here.” Dutch said.

“God damned law was on me for a good long while.” John shoved a bound Samuel inside and closed the door.

“You... you rotten thief, murderer!” Samuel, in spite of having his hands tied behind him, dashed for Dutch, only to be grabbed by John before he even made it two steps in.

“He's been a nuisance the whole damned time. Probably the reason why they was so hard to shake off.” John grumbled.

“Best not be followed here, scarface.” Micah sneered.

“Like I don't know how to lose a tail,” John retorted. “Since when we taking hostages home?” John turned to Dutch.

“The boy is going to be what turns this job in our favour.” Dutch continued to glance out the window.

“What is he, his son?” John frowned.

“His pet.” Dutch said.

“What?!” John eyed Samuel up and down.

“Henry panicked when the boy was in peril, he'll pay a good price for him.” Dutch said.

“ 'A 'oo'id.” Arthur tried to tell Dutch that his new plan was stupid, more so than the previous. It was hard to believe that Dutch still hadn't realized they should abandon all things related to Henry and never look back.

“Why is he still trussed up like that?” John motioned at Arthur.

“Free him.” Dutch's attention still mostly remained on the outdoors.

“I ain't got no hacksaw or lock-pick.” John patted his own pockets.

Arthur groaned. Turns out John was the only sensible person in the room, someone actually concerned with his current predicament. John of all people.

“Micah I know you got one.” John said.

Micah patted himself down. “Must've lost it.” He said with a smirk on his face.

“Horse shit, saw you pocket it earlier.” John sounded agitated. 

“So concerned for Arthur, how magical.” Micah pulled a thin piece of metal out of his coat, waved it around.

“ 'ut 'up.” Arthur couldn't wait to get this damned thing out of his mouth. This was the second time Micah hinted at something between John and himself, no way could that rat have seen or known anything.

“You will be tried for murder! Then you'll all be hanged for shooting my master.” Samuel threatened.

“Lord above, not the _noose_.” Dutch slowly stepped over to them. His casual tone made Samuel swallow. It likely dawned on the boy that he was captured by a group of very dangerous men.

Arthur groaned and shifted, the hard wooden floor a nightmare for his knees. He wanted to tell Micah to hurry up with the lock around his wrists, but thought it best not to give the bastard any reason to delay.

“John, Get the boy to camp, make sure he's blindfolded.” Dutch pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it, seemingly satisfied that they were safe here for the time being.

“What about the rest of you?” John asked.

“We'll follow as soon as Arthur can mount a horse,” Dutch added.

Arthur glanced behind him when it sounded like John hadn't moved, wondered why the man hesitated.

“Unless you're too compelled by Arthur in this state and would rather remain so your eyes can continue to dance all over him?” Dutch said with a sinister undertone.

“What? 'Course not.” John pulled the boy along, left with him in a hurry.

Dutch wearily sighed, returned to the chair he previously sat on, cigar in hand as he stared down at Arthur.

The room was silent enough for the sound of metal which snapped to be very audible.

“Oops, that was my only lock-pick.” Micah said, sounded none too sincere.

“ 'Ou go' 'amn 'a 'ard!” Arthur growled, that damned bastard. No way had he not broken it on purpose. He couldn't help himself, launched a whole train of garbled obscenities in Micah's direction.

“Looks like I'm riding back to camp for more, could be a while.” Micah used Arthur's shoulders as support when he stood up, dusted himself off. 

Arthur continued to curse his name in every way possible.

“Stop.” Dutch said when Micah was at the door.

“Boss?” 

“I told you, boy. Three chances to keep your temper, you just used up your fourth.” The darkness made it harder to see the malice in Dutch's eyes, but Arthur could tell it was there.

“You will now apologize to Mr. Bell.”

Arthur snorted, but Dutch continued to stare at him.

“ 'A 'owy.” He quietly garbled, he was warned and failed, fair is fair.

“Too inaudible.” Dutch stated.

Arthur tried again, but he couldn't do any better with his jaw pried open as far as it was. Dutch knew that. Like he knew what Dutch was doing.

“Since your mouth is so readily available, we'll make good use of it. Clearly that is all you're eager for, no matter with who.” Dutch got up, pushed the chair closer to Arthur.

“ 'as 'ugged!” Drugged, he tried to say again. Dutch must have understood that he hadn't volunteered to be restrained like this. That he hadn't enjoyed a single second of it. Or was he right the first time when he guessed this was some sort of power play from Dutch's end? A way to compensate for how badly Henry had outplayed him. Maybe even for John who had hesitated a second to long before leaving them.

“Micah.” Dutch held his hand out towards the chair.

“Eh, was just joking earlier Dutch, I'm not interested in none of that.” Micah said, dismissively waved a hand in Arthur's direction.

Arthur let out a sigh of relief.

“So even you now join those who incessantly question my every decision.” Dutch sounded disappointed.

“It's not like that boss, just don't want Morgan near my pecker.” Micah scratched the back of his head.

“He can't bite, if that's what your concerned about.” Dutch cupped Arthur's chin and lifted his head, turned it slightly to inspect the ring gag further.

Arthur did his best to plead with his eyes, anyone but Micah.

“He's a man, I'm a man, you're a man.” Micah removed his hat, fiddled with it.

“How very observant of you.” Dutch drawled.

“A verbal apology will do me just fine, boss.” Micah said.

“It won't do _me_ fine.” Dutch tightened his grip on Arthur's jaw when the latter attempted to pull free in what he saw as a hissy fit.

“ 'o 'uc'ing 'is 'ock.” Not sucking his cock, it was impossible to articulate. Still Arthur tried to make it as clear as he could that he had no plans to let any part of Micah touch him.

“Ever had your cock sucked?” Dutch glanced up at Micah.

“Uh... sure.” Micah sheepishly said after a long pause.

Dutch raised a brow at him. “It's quite the experience.”

“You know, I could be in camp and back with some more lock picks before sunrise.” Micah said.

Arthur was surprised at how meek Micah sounded, this was a first. Sadly not as enjoyable as it should have been. Not when he knew Dutch was in the kind of mood where he wouldn't take no for an answer.

“Like being inside a woman, but better.” Dutch ignored Micah's suggestion.

“Don't see how a man could offer a better experience.” Micah continued to fiddle with his hat.

“Never dismiss something before you've tried it, son.” Dutch let go of Arthur, waved Micah over. “Come here, I promise you'll enjoy it.” Dutch cooed.

“Don't know about this Dutch.” Micah sounded hesitant.

“Micah, you are an exceptional soldier, a hard worker. Let me offer you the best, which is all you deserve.” Dutch placed his hand on Micah's back, gently guided him over to the chair.

Arthur couldn't believe his ears. Hard worker?! That lazy piece of shit? The only thing Micah worked hard on was his to keep his snake tongue up in peoples business so he could rat them out and gain favour with Dutch.

“Pants down, sit.” Dutch ordered. “Trust me when I say that this is a treat you will _deeply_ enjoy.”

“You're being kind boss, I understand that. It's just not for me.” Micah swallowed, stared down at Arthur who shook his head up at him.

“Tell you what, if you don't enjoy it, I'll give you two hundred dollars from the camp funds.” Dutch said.

“'Ah?!” What?! Arthur was baffled, Dutch yet again used him like a harlot for sale. Offered money from the camp funds no less. Money that he worked hard to get, money which was being offered to Micah so he would let his cock be sucked _by him_. Dutch used his hard earned money to pay Micah for a fucking blowjob he didn't want to give.

How's that for irony?

The large sum seemed to be the last push Micah needed to finally remove his gun belt first, pants next, there was still some hesitance in his motions.

“That's it son, trust your leader.” Dutch cooed, used his cigar to light a candle on the table.

“ 'o 'anna.” He couldn't think of any other way to make it more clear that he didn't want to do this, having no use of any limbs. Not that Dutch would care, man was too far gone in his quest to compensate for the defeat he just suffered.

Arthur gasped when Micah lowered his pants. That damned rat was hung like a horse, larger than John, almost as large as Dutch. What the hell?

“My my.” Dutch grinned.

That seemed to be the final boost of confidence Micah needed, he sat down, spread his legs, shuffled the chair a bit closer towards Arthur.

“Uh uh.” Arthur shook his head, shuffled backwards, a hand in his hair quickly stopped him.

“Wrong way, boy.” Dutch snarled.

Leather squeaked as Arthur attempted to pull his arms free. Dutch's hand now rested against the nape of his neck and pushed him towards Micah's groin.

“Guide it in there, son.” Dutch told Micah.

“Shouldn't I eh, get it going a bit first?” Micah quietly asked.

Arthur closed his eyes, felt like he was in some sort of surreal dream where Micah sounded like he had never been with a man or woman. A dream where Dutch decided he should be Micah's first.

Yuck.

“Go ahead.” Dutch said.

Micah, glanced between the pair, grabbed hold of his cock and stroked it a few times.

“Son, you should spit in your hand.” Dutch pointed out.

For a second, just a tiny, tiny second, Arthur felt sorry for Micah. Bastard was obviously uncomfortable and coerced into doing something he otherwise wouldn't have. Then he remembered it was Micah, that it amused him to see that reddish tint in the man's face.

“Right.” Micah spat in his hand, then tried to get himself hard again, he alternated the speed of his strokes, even closed his eyes at one point. To no avail, he remained as flaccid as ever.

Arthur snickered, a noise which earned him a light slap against the back of his head.

“Hm, your mind isn't in the right place, it's all in the mind,” Dutch said.

“Tryin' boss.” Micah furrowed his brows, sped up his strokes, still there was no change, not even a twitch.

“Stop, open your eyes and look at him.” Dutch told him.

Micah did as told, “that won't help.” There was no small amount of disgust in his face as his eyes were locked with Arthur's.

“Uhu,” for once, Arthur agreed with Micah.

“You and Arthur often have your disagreements, don't you?” Dutch asked.

Arthur frowned, the hell was Dutch up to?

“Yes?” Micah seemed equally as confused.

“I often catch the two of you in some spat for my favour, or an argument about who's better than who.” Dutch carded a hand through Arthur's hair, pulled to force his head to tilt back, chin up.

“Look where he is now, in front of you, on his knees.” Dutch leaned closer to Micah and whispered, “at your mercy.”

The corner of Micah's lip twitched upward. Arthur's eyes narrowed at him, he couldn't let the bastard think he wanted to be here.

“Don't just think of his mouth as a hole, think of it as your way to finally show him who's boss.” Dutch spoke slow, gave every word time to sink in.

Arthur shook his head when Micah's cock finally showed some signs of life. Dutch and his pretty words, the man was truly an artist with his tongue. A tongue which was the most skilled and amazing thing his own cock ever felt.

Don't, not now, don't get yourself excited.

“This is your chance to shut him up. Your size is impressive, son. Look at him.” Dutch leaned down to grab hold of Arthur cock, showed it off as if he were a prized good for sale. “You're built the same.”

“'O 'e 'ame.” Arthur snapped. Not the damned same, he was obviously larger than Micah.

“Close your eyes, pump yourself.” Dutch ordered Micah.

A garbled squeal left Arthur's throat when Dutch gave him a hard squeeze.

“Arthur Morgan, my strongest, my best. Readily available for you to do with as you please.”

Micah let out the quietest of moans as he continued to stroke himself.

“He's going to lap up every last bit of what you have to offer, and then he'll thank you for it.” Dutch continued.

Arthur couldn't hold back a small moan of his own when Dutch stroked him a few times.

Shit.

“L-lap it up, l-like a dog.” Micah panted , almost had himself fully hard.

“You're ready son, show him who's boss.” Dutch smirked, his hand returned to the nape of Arthur's neck, guided his head towards Micah's crotch.

Micah shifted forward in his seat when Dutch forced Arthur's wide open mouth over his pulsating cock.

“Easy, give him time to adjust.” Dutch said.

Arthur growled, damned if he hadn't tried to bite down on Micah's cock. Unfortunately Henry's device was as effective as it was cruel.

“Pull out a bit.” Dutch told Micah, “let him taste you first.”

Arthur felt absolutely dirty when Micah's tip rested on his tongue, he could taste the man's salty pre-cum.

“W-what now?” Micah asked.

“Tell him what you want him to do.”

Micah glanced up at Dutch, then back down at Arthur. “L-lick it.” He said to Arthur.

“ 'O,” Arthur shook his head.

Dutch leaned in closer to Arthur's ear so he could whisper. “Use your tongue or daddy will use his fist to spread your other hole.”

Arthur swallowed, damned artist with his tongue. He shouldn't feel motivated to comply, shouldn't have twitched in his lower region. But he had, Dutch had been overly possessive, treated him like an object. Made it clear that he was defenceless to stop Dutch from doing whatever he wanted.

This shit shouldn't turn him on.

But it did.

“Show him a good time and I'll make you scream when we're alone.” Dutch still whispered.

Shit.

Arthur pushed his tongue up against the underside of Micah's shaft. When it was obvious that he complied, Dutch loosened the grip on his hair, gave him some freedom to move his head around while he tried to work Micah's cock with his tongue. It was hard without hands, even harder with a mouth forced wide open.

“Oh f-fuck.” Micah grunted, his hands moved all over the place, from the sides of the chair to his thighs and back.

Arthur curled his tongue around Micah's tip. Dutch had positioned himself behind Micah, no doubt so he could have a clear view of how well he did or didn't work that shaft.

_'I'll make you scream when we're alone.'_

Micah or no Micah, that was a reward he'd gladly work for. It shouldn't be hard to give Micah a good time, man seemed to be very new at all this, no way would he last long.

Give Micah a good time.

Words he never dreamed to ever think. Of course Dutch managed to put them both in a position they would never have agreed to. If only that divine, con-artist tongue would work his body as well as it worked his mind.

“S-shit, Morgan.” Micah said through grit teeth.

“Show some dominance, son. Make him take you in.” Dutch ordered.

Micah was past the point of hesitation, grabbed a fistful of Arthur's hair and shoved his cock all the way past that ring in Arthur's mouth.

“Uuungh!” Arthur's eyes widened, Micah hadn't given him any time to adjust, probably unaware of the existence of a gag reflex. That or he didn't care, with Micah, either was possible. He tried to pull his head back, but Micah, now fully caught up in the moment merely tightened his grip and kept Arthur's nose pressed against his groin.

“Doesn't he make the best noises?” Dutch murmured.

“Hm hm.” Micah sounded distant and unfocused.

Arthur sputtered and coughed when Micah pulled him back, until he was only halfway inside of him.

“Again, let him choke on it, feel his throat contract around you.” Dutch panted.

Arthur glanced up, noticed Dutch's arm movements. His mentor was jerking himself off behind Micah. He wasn't given much time for that mental image to sink in. Micah snarled, forced himself all the way in, deep inside Arthur's throat.

A strangled noise was lost to the mass inside of him. Again he struggled and squirmed when his supply of air was cut off. Tears welled up in his eyes when Micah's tip poked the back of his throat, an automated response from his body as it attempted to expel the intruder. Of course his throat contracted around Micah's shaft, sounded like the bastard immensely enjoyed it too.

“T-this is so... so damned good. Shit Morgan.” Micah panted.

“This is true dominance, son.”

“Yeah... you're my little bitch, ain't ya Morgan?” Micah snarled between laboured breaths.

“Aaaugh!” Air, he needed air. Dutch was turning Micah into himself, gave him a taste of what it was like to use him as a toy.

“Let him breathe.” Dutch casually said.

Micah pulled out, gave Arthur a few deep inhales before he forced himself in again. Bastard learned fast, and Dutch encouraged him to be as a cruel in the bedroom as he was outside of it.

Micah grunted something condescending, closed his eyes when he started to force Arthur's head up and down his shaft.

“S-so fucking c-lose.” Micah moaned.

At least being new meant he lacked stamina.

“Pull out before you come.” Dutch told him.

“W-why?” Micah spoke through grit teeth.

“Because he's mine and I tell you so.” Dutch snarled.

Micah growled, thrust his hips forward a few more times before he pulled out.

“You're my little bitch, Morgan, my God damned bitch.” Micah said with a throaty voice.

Arthur tried to turn his head away when strands of Micah's warm ejaculate were shot at his open mouth, but he was held in place. It didn't stop either, burst after burst landed on his tongue, lips and chin, even down on his chest. The volume of it surprised him, he was beyond grateful that Dutch hadn't allowed him to shoot down his throat, he'd surely have suffocated. Part of him was impressed, never had he seen a man shoot so much cum out.

Micah continued to pump himself until a minimal amount leaked out his tip, he then leaned back, out of breath as he stared up at the ceiling.

“So, I take it that was worth forgoing the two hundred?” Dutch rested both his hands on Micah's shoulders, there was no sign that man had pleasured himself earlier, if he even finished.

“W-want more.” Micah managed to say.

“Keep working hard and doing me proud, then we'll see about making that your reward.” Dutch patted him on the shoulders.

Arthur heard the promise, would have protested, garbled or not. Except that he was busy doing his best to rub his tongue against his bare shoulder, anything to get Micah's seed off of it.

“B-bit disrespectful there, Morgan.” Micah sneered, sounded more confident than he was when they started.

“Training takes time.” Dutch added, the man sure knew what the bastard would like, gave him a taste, a desire for more.

Well shit.

“Arthur, thank him for giving you a taste of his seed.” Dutch placed his hand on the top of Arthur's head, turned him to face Micah.

“Uhh uhh.” He shook his head as much as possible, didn't always have to do what Dutch wanted. Not when it came to feeding Micah's ego.

“We don't have petroleum jelly boy, think twice if you want my fist up your ass.” Dutch threatened.

Arthur let out a pitiful whine, “'ank 'ou,” he tried, averted his eyes from Micah who grinned from ear to ear.

“Clean yourself up, time for you to go.” Dutch fished out and lit another cigar.

“Sure thing boss.” Micah did as told, seemed unsteady on his legs.”Shouldn't take me long to be back.”

“No need.” Dutch said, pulled a toolkit with various sizes of lock-picks out of his coat and showed it to them.

Arthur's face instantly turned red. More so when he heard Micah laugh on his way out.

“Don't give me that attitude. You needed to be punished for allowing Henry to fool you.” Dutch used a discarded piece of cloth to clean the chair Micah had sat on, sat down himself.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. He wasn't the only one Henry had tricked, Dutch was being unfair as per usual.

“Lucky for you, we came out better than we went in. The boy will fetch us a fine prize.” Dutch used the cloth to clean Micah's cum from Arthur's chest and face.

Arthur raised a brow at him. It was a stupid idea, Henry already proved himself capable of outplaying Dutch, he'd surely be able to do it again.

“Don't stare at me with such contempt in your eyes. It's unseemly.” Dutch puffed on his cigar.

“Where we first stood to gain one or two thousand, we can easily up that to five or more. I saw it in his eyes, he'll pay.” Dutch continued.

Arthur snorted, no more than a few hours ago had Dutch been bested by him, yet still the man believed he had the upper hand.

Foolish.

“You want to continue with that attitude? Fine.” Dutch proceeded to stuff the cloth, soaked with Micah's cum, into Arthur's mouth.

“Mrrrgh!” He tried to push it out with his tongue, but Dutch kept packing it in there, to a point where his mouth was completely stuffed and his dry tongue failed to remove it. Then he remembered how God awful Dutch could sometimes be when he wanted to.

Sometimes?

Sure he could have done as told, could have tried to keep his temper under control, but the man never made it easy.

“Now then, I promised I'd make you scream if you did a good job. Though I never said it would be from pleasure.” Dutch placed the cigar between his teeth, grinned as he rolled his sleeves up.

Arthur's moan was incredibly muffled. Only Dutch could promise pleasure and twist it around to punishment, could make his cock stir with anticipation from the prospect of either.

Only Dutch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello you lovely people!
> 
> Wrote an extra long one ( my longest ever ) to make up for the slow update and to mark my last one for 2020. If I wasn't a fool with 3 ongoing long-fics I would probably have gotten another update out. Unfortunately I'd like to give them all one last chapter for this year.
> 
> Also don't worry about Henry, he hasn't even started on what he plans for Arthur, the man has many toys he wants to try on our sexy boah.
> 
> Wish you all the happiest of holidays. Thank you so much for your patience and I hope you continue to enjoy!  
> xxx


End file.
